Chapter 65 Almost Said It
He said nothing.
I waited three more seconds.
Then I walked out.
Margaux was in the kitchen when I came back in. She looked at my face, looked at the closed office door behind me and said nothing. Just placed a bowl in front of me and sat down with her own.
We ate.
“He’s going to say it eventually,” she said.
I looked at her.
“The thing he keeps almost saying.” She picked up her spoon without looking at me. “Whoever taught him that words were dangerous did a thorough job. But thorough isn’t permanent.” She met my eyes briefly. “Your father was the same. Took him eight months to tell me he loved me. When he finally said it he said it like he’d been holding it so long it came out heavier than he expected.”
I looked at my bowl.
“I’m not rushing him,” I said.
“I know.” She ate quietly for a moment. “I’m not suggesting you should.” She set her spoon down. “I’m just saying… some things are worth the weight of waiting for them to be said properly.”
I didn’t respond.
But I thought about it for the rest of the afternoon.
Zael came out of the office at six.
He moved through the kitchen with his jacket over one arm and stopped at the counter to pour water and stood there drinking it with his back partially turned.
I was at the table with my laptop.
Neither of us spoke for a moment.
“The London analysis arrives Thursday,” he said finally. “Edinburgh confirms Friday morning. Claire will have both before Gerald’s lawyers can activate the document.”
“Good,” I said.
“Harrow sent a signed statement about how he found the document. Claire has it.”
“Also good.”
Silence.
“Seraphine.”
I looked up.
He was looking at the counter. Not at me. His hand still around the water glass.
“I wasn’t finished earlier,” he said.
“I know,” I said.
“I’m…” He stopped. Set the glass down. Turned to face me fully. “I’m not good at this.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“I’m aware you’ve noticed.” He held my gaze. “I’ve been aware of most things where you’re concerned for longer than I’ve been comfortable admitting.” He paused. “That’s the part I keep almost saying.”
Silence.
Margaux had gone to her room an hour ago.
Just us.
“Most things,” I said.
He didn’t look away. “The way you work. The way you think. The way you walked into Gerald’s sitting room and said no to a man who had been taking things from you for eleven years and said it like it cost you nothing even though I know it cost you everything.” He held my gaze steadily. “The way you keep things going anyway.”
I set my laptop down.
“Zael…“
“I’m not finished.” His voice was quiet. “I told Damien months ago that you deserved your freedom. That once this was over you should be able to walk away from an arrangement that started under pressure.” He looked at his hands briefly. “I believed that when I said it. I believed I was being fair.” He met my eyes.
“What I didn’t account for was that somewhere between the ceremony and now I stopped being able to picture what walking away from you would actually look like.” A beat. “I stopped being able to picture it at all.”
The room held everything in that sentence.
I looked at him.
This man who had been built around walls and had been quietly dismantling them since a kitchen floor conversation without ever making it a declaration… just a series of small chosen actions that added up to something I had been watching build for weeks.
“You’re saying it,” I said.
“I’m trying to.” He exhaled once. “I’m saying that what started as a legal arrangement is not what this is anymore. Has not been for a long time.” He held my gaze. “I’m saying I don’t want your freedom. I want…”
His phone rang.
We both looked at it on the counter.
Unknown number.
He didn’t move to answer it.
It rang again.
“Answer it,” I said quietly.
He picked it up. “Yes.”
A beat.
His expression changed.
Not dramatically. A small shift… the one that meant something had arrived that required immediate recalibration.
“How long ago?” he said.
Another beat.
“We’re coming now.”
He ended the call.
Looked at me.
“That was Odette’s housekeeper,” he said. His voice was controlled but something underneath it had gone very still. “Odette collapsed twenty minutes ago. They called an ambulance.” He was already picking up his jacket. “She’s been taken to St. Clement’s.”
I was on my feet before he finished the sentence.
I grabbed my bag from the chair.
“Margaux.” I knocked on her door once. “We have to go. Family emergency.” I didn’t wait for a full response.
“Lock up please.”
Her door opened immediately. “Go,” she said. “Go.”
We were in the elevator in under two minutes.
Zael stood beside me with his jacket on and his phone in his hand and the expression of a man managing something that didn’t have a managed version, the fear of losing the one person who had never left.
I reached across and took his hand.
He held it.
Neither of us said anything.
The elevator descended.