Trust: Betrayed (6 page)

“I would say so. Everyone wants to feel loved and to love, and, to do so, a relationship or commitment is a prerequisite. If not, it’s not love, it’s unilateral adoration. In that light, don’t you think your statement is unusual? Don’t you think I would like to know how you are feeling about it? Do you know how you feel about it?”

“How long have you been in therapy, Doctor Leibowitz?” he teased.

She smiled sadly and looked down at her plate from a moment before raising her eyes to look into his green ones, “Since I lost my parents. I have a fifteen year unofficial PhD on the subject.”

The inevitable and brutal truth made Alistair’s heart squeeze in his chest as he pictured a small orphaned Sophia. He curled a lock of her raven hair around his fingers. “And does it help?” he asked quietly.

“A lot. But you didn’t answer my question, Lord Slippery. How do you feel about our relationship?”

“I told you yesterday, have you forgotten?”

“Do you think you can outsmart me in this game, Alistair Connor?” She didn’t fall prey to his game of hide and seek. “Humor me again, please.”

“Sophia...” his deep voice was low as he confessed, “you have to understand that I was... I was so numb, only violence could touch me. I felt old and jaded. Cruelty came easily to me, maybe too easily. I felt a deep need to punish and be punished by my disgust with myself. I didn’t want a bond with anyone. I just wanted to cause pain and feel it.”

Sophia drank a big gulp of wine, astonished. “God, Alistair.”

“First, I was a hedonist drunk on sensation. I tasted everything that was proposed to me. But then... After Nathalie’s death, I couldn’t stand to be loved. I’ve lived the last year in excruciating, endless solitude. Each night, I scrubbed my scars raw again. Scars I was responsible for. I embraced the shadows, regardless of any need to love, to link, even in friendship. Since I couldn’t be entombed with Nathalie, I buried myself under hard work during the day, and in depravation at night.”

She was too shocked by his confession to say anything, having even forgotten to continue eating.

“Being with you is inspiring, Sophia. You radiate light; you are good, young and pure. Everything about you is honest and decent. So different from what I was used to.”

His fingertips caressed her cheek, “I don’t know what I would have done if you had walked away Saturday night. And you had every right to, after what happened.”

“I told you, you are forgiven.”

He gave her a sad smile, “You have an immense capacity for forgiveness. Even though,” his fingers lowered to the scarf tied skillfully around her neck, “your body does not.”

She shook her head at him. “You’re wrong.” And she put his fingers on her left upper arm. “My body can heal as easily as my soul. It’s this capacity that keeps me alive, that every day renews my belief in good and in human beings in spite of everything that has happened to me.”
In spite of what I’ve done.

“Maybe that explains your refreshing innocence.”

“Maybe. What happened... Saturday night, it’s nagging you, isn’t it?”

“Aye,” he admitted, looking into her eyes very seriously. “I’ve never... attacked or harmed a woman in that way. It... I freaked out.”

“I never gave you cause to doubt my actions.”

“It’s not you, Sophia. It’s me. I know now it was unfair. I’m distrustful to the extreme.” He inhaled deep and his hand sought hers, enlacing their fingers, he looked into her eyes and said, “Heather hurt more than just my pride. She broke me in so many ways that I lost the ability to love. And after Nathalie’s death, I... lost the desire to live, to put it lightly.”

Sophia swallowed the crusted aubergine she was eating with difficulty. She put her silverware on the plate and turned on the sofa to look at him. In a wisp of a voice, she started to say, “You thought about...” But couldn’t finish the thought, it pained her so much.

He shifted to face her. “Suicide? Aye, I did. More than once. You can’t imagine what it is to love a child as I loved Nathalie and to know that I was partially responsible for her death... It drove me insane.”

“Oh, my dear,” she breathed, tears in her eyes and threw her arms around his torso, hugging him fiercely, not caring about the scene she was making. “Alistair. Oh, Alistair,” she murmured, “I’m so sorry.”

He embraced her and buried his head in her hair, letting her sweet smell soothe him and whisk away the painful memories.

His deep voice reached inside her, “You become responsible for what you’ve tamed, said the fox to the little Prince.”

She lifted her head to stare into his beautiful green eyes and waited for him to continue.

He cupped her face in his big warm hands, “You’re responsible for my heart and soul now, Sophia. Don’t let me down.”

She combed his hair with her fingers and shook her head, “Never. It’s a promise.”

He kissed her briefly on the lips. “You’re an amazing woman.”

“You’re an amazing man, Alistair Connor. I’ll make you believe it.”

Alistair almost scoffed at what she said, but the belief he saw in her light honey eyes prevented him. It brought such joy and peace to him that he felt lightheaded.

She smiled at him and asked, “Ready for your favorite part of our meals?”

His face lit up and he licked his lips, “Ah, dessert.”

She slid out of the sofa, “Why don’t you surprise me, while I go to the restroom?”

“If you promise to make love to your surprise...”

She giggled. “You’re incorrigible.”

His laughter followed her through the restaurant.

1.39 p.m.

Sophia halted mid-stride when she noticed that Alistair was standing beside their table talking to the same blonde woman they had seen at The Waterside Inn, in Berkshire. His face was drawn taut and his spine was stiff.

The woman was again scantily clad, although her clothes screamed money. She appeared to be wearing a very short see-through silk dress and nothing underneath. Her high heels were Louboutin. She had enormous earrings and lots of bracelets that sparkled and clinked when she moved.

Sophia studied the stunning woman, trying to discern if she was a pro or not. Thoughts whirled in her head as she decided what she should do. She looked around the restaurant. Alistair didn’t notice, but people had turned to look at him and the woman, whispering behind their hands. When the blonde pouted her lips at Alistair, Sophia was spurred into action.

As she walked slowly to Alistair’s side, part of their conversation reached her ears.

“-a long time, my dear.” And the woman put a hand on Alistair’s crossed arms intimately, “I miss our...” Sophia couldn’t hear the rest of the sentence as the woman stood on her tiptoes and whispered it in Alistair’s ear. She got down on her heels with a smug smile on her face.

Alistair pushed away the hand that was now caressing his biceps and stated in a dry voice, “I can’t say the same. Forever will not be long enough for me to forget, Emma. Now, if you’ll excuse-” As he turned, he saw that Sophia was almost at their side. He was thunderstruck for a split second, then immediately stopped a passing waiter, took some notes from his wallet, saying, “We have to go. Keep the change.”

As Sophia approached him, he put an arm over her shoulder, ordering, “Come.”

Without waiting for an answer or saying farewell to the blonde woman, he dragged Sophia out of the restaurant, and walked in silence to the side street, where Garrick was parked, waiting. Still brooding, he entered the BMW after her and closed the door with so much calm it was disquieting.

What just happened?
Sophia was bewildered and decided to stay quiet. She enlaced her fingers and rested them demurely on her lap, gazing outside, not really seeing the passing cars and the people hurrying to and fro.

“Garrick, please, drive to my place,” Alistair said into the intercom.

Sophia’s head whipped to look at him, “Alistair, I can’t-” She stopped as she saw the anguish stamped on his features. “Alistair, my dear, I have a meeting at two-thirty.” She glanced at her watch, “It’s one forty-five.”

“Sophia, I have to tell you something. We need to talk.”

She looked at her watch again, “Is it so important that it can’t wait until tonight?”

I’ll lose my courage.
He sighed, “Tonight, then.”

Mayfair. Lodes’s Clinic.

Tuesday, October 23

, 2007.

11.41 a.m.

“Please, sit, Alistair Connor.” Doctor Benjamin Lodes motioned to one of the armchairs. He was Lachlann’s urologist and had know Alistair since he was a baby. He waited until Alistair was comfortably seated and perched himself on the table. “How have you been feeling?”

“Uh... Still a bit uncomfortable. I thought I was fine when I finished the last antibiotics...” Alistair didn’t like the grimace that crossed Doctor Lodes’s face. “Why? Did the new tests show a relapse?”

“I don’t have good news, my boy.” The doctor sighed and sat in the other armchair and patted Alistair’s knee. Alistair’s eyes rounded at the serious and fatherly tone the doctor’s voice had acquired. “I- Alistair Connor. You don’t have a chronic urinary infection.”

“No?” Alistair’s face showed his surprise.
But that was what you told me in March and kept telling me all these months.

“Seems that the test results were wrong.” The doctor stretched his arm and picked up a folder, taking out a sheet and handing it to Alistair. “This arrived just this morning, and, according to the result, you have contracted a serious STD.”

“What?” Alistair’s face showed his disbelief at the news. “But I thought-”

“Yeah. I know I said it was a urinary infection. It was what the tests showed. Unfortunately, that’s not all of it.” Doctor Lodes was saddened by having to give such news to Alistair. He liked him so much.

“Are you sure, Doctor Ben? My tests... Last year... didn’t show any disease.”

“This is a silent disease, Alistair Connor. It’s called
Mycoplasma genitalium
. And not very easy to detect. I only included it on my list for obligatory exams recently. As you were once a... Let’s say... Ah-”

“Promiscuous,” Alistair supplied to ease the doctor’s discomfort.

“Yes, unfortunately you fall into the category. As I was saying, I included that exam in your tests. It’s not very common, at your age, to have such a continuos inflammation as you’ve had this year. Heather has to be tested as well. I would guess that she has it too.” He pulled another sheet from Alistair’s file. “I wrote a prescription for you. It’s for azithromycin. I’m recommending a prolonged course. It means a strong dosage for a longer duration.”

This is wrong. It must be wrong. I’ve never had a sexual disease before.
“But... shouldn’t we do another test? Maybe this is the wrong one...”

“We can do more tests, yes. But I’m not willing to take any risks here. If you really have
Mycoplasma genitalium
for this long, without treatment...” The doctor shook his head, slowly.

“But how could that have happened?”
Heather always does her tests. She is clean too.

“How? Alistair Connor, you’ve had multiple partners.” Disapproval was apparent in his voice. “And we both know that you don’t always practice safe sex. No matter how many times I’ve warned you about the risks. Have you, ah... Had any other new partners lately?”

“No,” Alistair answered, bewildered. “Not for a long time,” he ran two fingers over his square jaw, thinking. “Since Heather got pregnant.”
It has been only Heather and I. And... Emma. Don’t forget Emma, Alistair Connor.

“I treated your supposed urinary infection with tetracycline and, although, you could have been cured, it seems to me that Heather might be infected because you keep returning here with the same problem. And I’m sure the relapse is going to be more difficult to treat because the bacteria may have become stronger and more resistant.”

Alistair frowned at that. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing to be scared about now. I’m requesting new tests to be done after you complete the treatment.”

“Okay. I’ll inform Heather that she has to do the test.”
And Emma.

“Yes. And she has to be specific with her gynecologist because it requires a specific test to be detected. Here’s the name of the test she has to do.” Doctor Lodes handed two other sheets to Alistair. “And this one is for you to do in four weeks after you finished the azithromycin. They’ll inform me of the result and I’ll call you, my boy.”

Alistair rose from his chair, unsure of his feelings. There were so many questions on his mind in that moment that he felt dizzy. “Thanks, Doctor Ben.”

“I hope you’ll take better care of yourself from now on.” The doctor gripped Alistair’s hand in his and looked deep into his eyes, “Alistair Connor, I could be your father, so I’m going to say what I’m sure your father said a long time ago: get rid of Heather.”

Alistair swallowed his anger with difficulty, out of respect for Doctor Lodes, a gentle middle-aged man, and one of Lachlann’s closest friends. “Doctor Ben, Heather is the woman I married, I don’t-”

“Alistair Connor, you have always been stubborn, haven’t you?” Doctor Lodes put a heavy hand on Alistair’s shoulder, shaking his head. “I know your parents don’t like her and you think it’s unfair. Then, why don’t you talk to Mark or to Johansson instead? Both are good friend of yours.”

Alistair eyed the older man and something in his eyes made him answer, “I will, Doctor Ben.”

Kensington Palace Garden. Atwood House.

Monday, March 15

, 2010.