Achileas stared down at her dazedly. At work he was used to bragging hyperbole and brash rhetoric. Outside of work the people he mixed with had a swaggering language that mirrored their splashy lifestyle. And yet somehow Effie’s quiet manner reinforced rather than reduced the truth of her words.
She really was one of a kind.
‘You’re not my equal, Effie,’ he said slowly. ‘You’re way smarter than me.’ Pulling her closer, he stroked her hair gently. ‘I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I thought this would be easy. I thought I could just slot you into my life. That’s why I took you to lunch. Why I made you get dressed up.’
He hesitated, not wanting to admit to that rush of jealousy, but then he thought about her honesty and all the truths he was holding back. Surely, he could admit this.
‘Only then you came onto the terrace in that dress, and I didn’t like it.’
Effie frowned. ‘I thought you wanted me to get dressed up.’
‘I did. But only for me.’
Her eyes fluttered to his face, but she didn’t react.
‘And I didn’t like it when you smiled at the waiter. I wanted you to smile at me. I wanted you to like me.’
There was another silence, and her voice was scratchy when she answered. ‘I do like you. You know I like you. But you said—’
‘I know what I said.’
He had wanted it to be true. Wanted to be free of that fierce, unforeseen hunger that made no sense. Only having pushed Effie away, he had been left with an emptiness that had filled his lungs, crowding out the air so it had felt as if he was drowning. And he had panicked. It was no excuse, but that was why he’d behaved as he had.
‘I was lying. To you. To myself.’ He swallowed, hard. ‘The truth is, I do care. And you were right about the money. My job, my life makes things binary. You’re either a have or a have-not. But a wise woman once told me there was more to life than money and she was right. I can’t do this on my own. I need you, Effie. And I want you. I want you so badly that I can’t think about anything else.’
He could see the faint tremor beneath her skin, the flush across her cheeks. ‘But if you’ve changed your mind...’
There was a long, pulsing silence, and then she let out a long, slow breath, as if she was letting go of more than just air. She shook her head. ‘I haven’t,’ she said quietly.