Page 32 of Love Will Save the Day
Chapter Twenty-Two
Henry is cold with me for the rest of the evening and when we arrive home he pours himself a whisky and stands before me, a frown on his face.
‘Bess. Look… I need you to be honest.’
‘Um… okay?’
‘I need to know. Do you have any interest in me at all? When we first met I thought you did but then… you seem to be avoiding my affections.’
I look down at me feet. I can’t tell him the whole truth just yet. I’ve had too much to drink, I’m not prepared. But the look of intensity on his face makes me realise that I do need to tell him. Tomorrow. I will do it tomorrow. With a clear head and in a situation where he isn’t freshly riled up from seeing me hug Auguste. And if he kicks me out, so be it. I have some money now, so it wouldn’t be the total disaster it would have been a couple of weeks ago.
‘I… I’m just not ready for anything with anyone,’ I lie, a regretful expression on my face.
‘It didn’t look that way this evening when Auguste had his hands on you,’ he retorts. He’s right. Auguste and I were very clearly having some sort of moment. ‘I need to know, Bess. As I said to Auguste, my fans are very invested in the idea of us and I just need to know what you’re thinking. What to expect so I can get ahead of it.’
I screw my face up. He’s worried about hisfans? Huh? What an odd thing to say. Is he drunk?
‘I… let’s talk about this tomorrow,’ I say, as he pours himself another whisky. ‘When we’re both sober and not feeling so tense.’
‘No. I need to talk about this now,’ Henry sighs. ‘I beg of you. This is very important to me. There’s a lot at stake.’
I start to back away towards the stairs. ‘I promise, we will talk tomorrow.’
‘Bess! Get back here. Where are you going?’
‘Uh… I just…uh… I need a poo!’
Bess. You absolute moron.
After a fitful night of feeling incredibly guilty, I come to in a sweat, my stomach churning into oblivion. Today I have to come clean to Henry. I have to reveal the truth that I went along with his mistaking me for someone else in a bid to improve my desperate situation. It’s the right thing to do. I just hope he forgives me.
I sit up in the bed, wiping the night drool from my mouth. And then I notice that there’s someone else in the room. It’s Henry! He’s standing at the foot of my bed and holding up his phone, filming me. I grimace. Has he completely lost it? Does he know I’m about to leave and he wants to capture me sleeping or something? For his memories?
‘What are you doing, silly?’ I ask, pushing my hair out of my eyes.
‘We’re on Instagram Live!’ Henry says with a bright smile.
I pull the blanket reflexively up to my chin. ‘What? Why? Stop! I look a mess.’
Henry chuckles. ‘Oh, you look as pretty as ever, Bess. But what I and our fans would really like to know is why you lied about being the woman who saved my life.’
My stomach drops into my feet. ‘What? I… I…’ What’s going on? Am I still asleep and this is some sort of nightmare? How does Henry know? ‘How do you… Wait will you stop filming. Let’s talk. I said we’d talk this morning. Let’s do that.’
‘So you’re admitting it?’ Henry asks.
I goggle at him. What the frick? ‘Henry, please stop filming.’
Henry’s mouth turns down into a sad frown. ‘Bess, you took advantage of me! You let me think that you were the woman who saved my life. You let me… you let me fallin lovewith you.’
In love with me? What? I thought he fancied me, sure. But in love? That’s what I’ve been trying to stop from happening! My goodness, poor Henry. This is awful. I have broken his heart. This is the last thing I wanted to happen.
I go to step out of the bed, but then realise I’m only wearing a very short t-shirt and don’t fancy exposing my swimsuit area on Instagram Live on top of everything else. I dive back under the covers.
‘I’m so, so sorry, Henry. You don’t understand, though. You have to let me explain.’ I plead, feeling slightly dizzy with the horror of the situation. ‘Let’s have a chat. Stop filming and we can talk about this.’
Henry shakes his head. ‘You have one hour to get out of my house. I… I never want to see you again, Bess McKinley. You’ve broken my heart.’
And with that he turns and leaves the room, clicking the door shut gently behind him.
