Decoding the Billionaire

by Meg MacRose

  Elly shook her head again. “No, it was Alex. And he just made it very clear, that he doesn’t love me. That we are not a forever after couple. I’m not sure what to do next, to be honest.”

  “Don’t you dare go home. You and I are going to be good friends, with or without the men. I can feel it already. So, how about you tell your sad soul that today is about having fun. You can have it out with Alex at home tonight, tomorrow, whenever. But today, we are two gals who are going to have lots and lots of fun. We don’t need men to define us. Why don’t you come inside? We can finish setting up all the food and start on one of those bottles of red that you brought!”

  Elly looked at Lacey’s earnest face. Her own smile was weak. “You remind me of Nina. But yes, come on. I’d like to have a fun day out today.”

  Following Lacey inside, she wondered how on earth she’d get through the day. The grim feeling of rejection felt the same as it had on the beach in Greece twelve years ago.

  ###

  Elly had helped Lacey inside with the preparations. She had almost finished a glass of wine that Lacey had poured for her when she heard the deep timbre of Alex’s voice behind her.

  “Hey Lacey, Nick has asked for the steaks to be brought out to rest.”

  Elly turned around in her chair. His cheeks were still red from the bonfire. He jeans fitted snug on his frame. Gosh he was good looking, even jeans and a shirt. She didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t one for confrontations, but her heart was heavy. She just didn’t know what she wanted to do next.

  “Elly. I didn’t realise you had arrived. Come on down and meet the guys.”

  “Sorry Alex.” Lacey interjected. “Elly and I are just getting to know each other, plus she’s been a huge help up here in the house, so I’ll monopolise her for a little bit longer if I can.”

  Alex gave Elly an odd look. “Sure. Are you okay?” He asked.

  “I’ll just get the steaks out for you. Hang on a sec Alex.” Lacey walked out the front leaving them alone.

  Alex came up and planted a kiss on her forehead. His lips were cold against her warm forehead.

  “Is there something wrong? Are you not feeling well?” His eyes met hers and she could see the concern on his face. “Elly honey, do you want to go home?”

  The worry in his voice was almost her undoing. Had she not heard him telling his friends that he didn’t love her, then she would have relished in the affection that he showed.

  She shook her head. “No. We don’t have to go. You’ve been looking forward to catching up with your friends. Besides, I’ve promised Lacey that I’ll help in the kitchen. I’m fine.”

  The lie sat uneasily with her. But she didn’t want to ruin Lacey’s function. It wouldn’t be fair. Her and Alex could talk later. Just how she was going to get through the day was her biggest challenge right now.

  “Here’s the steaks.” Lacey returned laden with a pile of trays of meat.

  “Thanks Lace, I’ll get these straight out to Nick.” He looked back at Elly. “Are you sure you don’t want to go home. Just let me know if you do. It’s not a problem.” He turned back at the back door; Elly could feel his eyes bore into her giving her another once over before he stepped outside.

  “Are you okay?” Lacey topped up their wine glasses.

  “Maybe I’ll take a rest from the wine. I’m not a big drinker anyway.”

  “You know what I think? You probably don’t want to hear it. But seeing Alex here with you. I think he really cares about you. He was genuinely concerned. Maybe he just hasn’t realised how much he cares about you. I know it doesn’t help heal the hurt in your heart, but maybe have faith that one day he will.”

  Elly shrugged her shoulders. I don’t think I have that kind of confidence.”

  “Come on. I’m putting on the jug, let’s have a hot brew of tea. Before anyone else arrives. You’ll be okay Elly. You’ll see.”

  ###

  How Elly had survived the day, she didn’t know. Lacey had looked after her and made sure she was constantly busy. She’d felt Alex’s eyes on her, watching her. He’d checked up on her many times. Brought her glasses of water. Sometimes he’d walked up and just placed his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close. Not making any comments, just letting her keep talking to whoever she was chatting with. Her heart had been pulled in all directions. His sensitivity to her needs to comforting, but she couldn’t unhear what she’d heard. A hollow in her stomach was building with dread.

  She feigned tiredness on the drive home and sat with her body turned from his, her forehead resting on the cool leather door.

  “El, are you okay? Do you want me to take you straight to a doctor? His hand squeezed her knee.

  “I’ll be fine Alex. I just want to get home.”

  “No problems. Just tell me if you need anything. Try and get some sleep.” His voice was low and caring.

  She didn’t sleep but watched from half closed eyes as the scenery changed from rural to urban.

  They didn’t talk the entire journey. Even when Alex parked outside her apartment, they both stepped out of his sports car in silence.

  He put his arm around her and waited while she deactivated the electronic lock on the door.

  “El, I’m really worried about you. What happened? Did something transpire at work this morning?”

  Elly looked sadly at Alex. “Alex, I overheard you talking with your friends. About us. You don’t think you could ever love me.”

  “Is this why you’ve been down all day?” Elly swatted his hands away from her as he tried to hug her.

  “We don’t need labels like love to have a good time together.”

  “Maybe we don’t. Alex, I really like you. I love you. And I don’t think I can commit to a relationship with you if you can’t commit to me.”

  “What’s brought this on? You knew the score from the start. You agreed that we’d just see where it went. No ties. No commitments. We can have a good time without aiming for a happily ever after”.

  “Sorry, but I just can’t continue investing my own heart when I know that you don’t and probably will never reciprocate. Yeah, I know what we agreed on. But I didn’t bank on falling in love with you again.”

  “Come on El. Why don’t we just chill out. You’re just a bit down. You’ll be fine in a bit. We have a good thing going. Why change it? Why make it anymore complicated than it is?”

  “Sorry Alex. I can’t. I just want you to leave please.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “If you think that, well I guess that’s it.”

  Raising her voice in a combination of frustration, anger and grief, she pleaded “please just leave me alone.”

  Alex stood at the top of the staircase. “We have a good thing going. Give me a call. No pressure.”

  She shook her head. She had never felt more miserable. She wasn’t even angry or frustrated anymore. Just sad. “It was good, but it’s over.”

  Chapter 11

  Elly woke up to the sound of a truck backing up, the beeping loud and harsh in the otherwise quiet morning She rolled and glanced over at her phone that lay discarded on the bedside table. 5:18am. She was too drained to get up and do anything productive, but now that she was awake, there was no way she could try and get back to sleep. She swiped the screen on her phone, and a photo taken on Alex’s yacht appeared as the background. Alex was laughing back to her, as he invited her to join him on the top deck after an amazing afternoon of slow and sensual sex. The memories came flooding back in slow motion. She had beaten him at Backgammon, and then he had defeated her in a game of Chess. It had been a most magical afternoon.

  She shook her head to clear the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. Elly pressed her fist against her heart. A sharp pain of anguish ran through her, as her memory returned to the final moments from the night before. Alex. He was after a good time, a short time, and not a forever-after.

  She chided herself, he’d made it very clear that after sh
e had thought about it, to call him to pick up on their casual with no strings attached kind of relationship. He hadn’t mentioned him going away and thinking about her view. That she loved him.

  It was nothing different to twelve years ago. She’d fallen head over heels with Alex then, just as she had now. The image on her phone was the man of her dreams. What was there not to love? He was as Bradley had first described, a gorgeous hunk. And he was interesting. And kind. And he made her feel like she was treasured. But he didn’t believe in love.

  The difference between now and before was that twelve years ago she had low self-esteem. She’d always been the scrawny tall geek, and his rejection had confirmed her lack of self-worth. She had assumed that she wasn’t enough.

  Now, she knew that wasn’t the case. DN, Inc. continued to be successful. Passing by shop windows, or glancing at herself in a mirror, she looked good. She had the body of a woman 10 years younger and cycling around London helped her keep it up. The clothes in her wardrobe were all chosen with care to both accentuate her shape and portray the perception of corporate hotshot. And at the end of the day, her and Alex had been good together. So that wasn’t it. But as she realised that it wasn’t her, a stabbing pain went through her heart. Sobs racketed through her body. Unlike last time, she couldn’t self-reflect and improve her wardrobe, her status or her bank account. This time she knew that she was good enough for him. But that wasn’t enough. And that realisation devastated her.

  As she looked up, the little fairy statue looked back at her with her angelic expression. The statue had been her mother’s and had sat on her dresser in her bedroom. The statue epitomised happiness and was like a beacon.

  A feeling of hopelessness and isolation washed over her. She had to get out of her apartment. It even smelt of Alex’s aftershave. She needed air. With a final glance at the happy image of Alex on her phone, she swept the device up in one hand and dropped it into a small backpack along with her wallet and a change of clothes. She dressed in her favourite comfortable blue jeans, yellow daisy t-shirt and green hoodie, and set out from her apartment with no destination in mind.

  Just something or somewhere to ease the jagged pain that had set in her body. Heading straight towards the nearest tube station, Elly didn’t want to call Nina who would ask a million questions, nor call her father who would worry about her. She wished her mother was still alive and give her a hug with no recriminations. It was one of the few memories she had of her mother, big bear hugs when she had returned home, or sitting on her knee after stubbing her toe. She hadn’t thought of these moments in a long time.

  She passed the tube entrance; one specific station on the tube network map seemed to call her. Faygate. It was the end of the Arun Valley Line, and Elly knew that it would only take a short train ride from London Bridge to take her to the picturesque village of Faygate—the village of her childhood and the spot her mother lay in the village cemetery.

  With no concept of time, nor taking any breaks for food or drink, Elly crisscrossed her way across the busy tube network to London Bridge, and with less than a 5-minute wait, boarded the next local train to Faygate.

  The entire train ride, she spent with her face averted to the window, not really seeing the landscape as it changed.

  Once the train arrived, she exited the small station; the hawthorn hedges that lined the main street brought Elly comfort. Without any explicit thought process, she crossed the street and cut through the deserted town square. Elly was so emotionally drained that she was unaware of the postman on his bicycle slowing down to get a better look at the stranger in town. Nor did she notice the milkman in his electric truck watch her movements with curiosity.

  Elly followed a well-used walking track that led behind the shops to the village church, and then beyond to the village cemetery.

  She opened the creaky white wooden half gate with a gentle push. Elly glanced around the cemetery to gather her bearings. After her mother had passed away, she had, for the first year, visited every month with her grandparents. But then her Dad had sold their home and bought a house with Wendy in a different district. She hadn’t returned very often at all since then to show her respects.

  Elly’s heart raged, coupled with a feeling of immense guilt that hung over her shoulders, and a sadness that engulfed her every step. Guilt as she hadn’t visited her mum’s grave for a very long time. And sadness, as she missed her mum, and had missed out sharing all the important events in her life that others got to share. Like graduation, or starting a business with Nina, or buying her first apartment.

  She stepped over the uneven ground between the headstones, Elly tiptoed over so she could read the inscription on her mother’s grave. Here lies Mary Marsden (nee Sweeney), beloved wife and mother.

  Unresolved grief and sadness for her mother coupled with her hurt and despair over Alex drove her to her knees on the moist, cold, mossy grass. Elly cried until her face was red, wet and cold. She didn’t notice through the tears that streamed down that the bright midday sun had dulled and turned into a cloudy afternoon.

  “Mum. What do I do?” Tears threatened to fall again, and Elly took a deep breath to try and control them.

  “I’ve met the most amazing person. Again. It’s the second time around that we’ve been in a relationship.” Continuing her dialogue, she said, “We have the most incredible time together, and I think I want to be with him forever. But that’s not his path. He doesn’t want more. He doesn’t want forever. He wants options. He wants casual. I can’t continue like that. I can’t be wondering each day if it’s our last together.” Her voice quivered as the final words came out.

  “Oh Mum. Am I too old-fashioned? Too straight? Why is he not enough for me without terms?”

  She could feel pins and needles in her feet. Elly stood up from the ground and relieved the pressure in one foot, then the other.

  She shrugged her shoulders as she wiped the tears off her face with the back of her mud-streaked hand. “What do I do”? Her question was barely a whisper and she almost jumped a mile when a gentle voice behind her spoke.

  “Sorry to give you a scare. The rain will be here before we know it. Go and get some rest. Get some sleep and some food.”

  A cloaked priest from the church that adjoined the cemetery gingerly walked towards her.

  Elly could sense him taking note of her blue compact backpack discarded on the mossy grass.

  “If you’re looking for a place to stay. The pub on the corner has nice rooms, though it can get noisy this time of the year. Otherwise I can recommend from personal experience Mrs Morris’s B & B which is clean and tidy, and only two doors down that way.”

  The priest pointed toward a side gate. Elly nodded. She was glad for both the intrusion and the kind words. She had cried all day, and now she was tired. Her stomach grumbled to remind her that she’d not eaten anything all day. Some hot food and a night’s rest was just what she craved.

  “The B & B sounds great. Thanks.”

  She slung her backpack over her shoulder and gave a silent nod to the priest and walked through the side gate to the house two doors away that was enshrined in small jasmine flowers. A pretty light red gate that matched the front door invited her to ring the bell at the entrance way. She drew a deep breath, the aroma of jasmine filled her in a heady kind of way.

  The door was opened by a bustling woman in her sixties, whose hair was a mass of curls rinsed grey-purple, with shrewd blue eyes that looked as though they hadn’t missed a single detail of the unkempt stranger knocking on her door. The lady was rather sharp in her greeting.

  “Yes? Can I help you?”

  “The priest recommended your place to stay. Do you have any spare rooms? Just for the night.”

  Elly was aware that her muddy clothes and windswept hair gave her a bedraggled look.

  “Well, if the priest suggested it, I can’t turn you out. I have a quiet double room. It’s out the back and has its own courtyard. Some of it is even undercover.” Taki
ng in Elly’s confused look she clarified, “The courtyard is partially undercover.”

  “That sounds great.”

  “I’ve made shepherd’s pie for Mr Morris’s tea. There’s mashed potato and steamed vegetables. I’ll do up a plate for you and leave it for you on the outdoor table in your courtyard. Here, come this way dear.”

  She stepped down the steps and opened a side gate that was shrouded by vines of jasmine.

  “Go have a hot shower. Your meal won’t be long. And dear, let me know if you need anything. Me and Mr. Morris will be just in the big house if you need us.”

  With that, Mrs. Morris slipped back out through the side gate and left Elly to examine her new surroundings. The cheerful double room already had the curtains drawn and the lights gave a homey glow.

  The under-cover table outside faced the most beautiful miniature garden that Elly had ever stood in. She turned in wonderment at the high walls covered in jasmine, the baskets of petunias and pansies hanging over the small iron-wrought table and chairs, and the giant urns of lilies. If she wasn’t feeling so downtrodden, Elly would have revelled in such a garden. A place that was conducive to just sit and read or code on her beloved notebook.

  A shower or bath sounded like bliss. Her shoulders ached, and her back needed to be stretched to get those kinks out. Elly took no time at all to draw a deep hot bath in the antique free-standing clawfoot bath. She didn’t scrimp either on the delicious smelling homemade bath salts that awaited in large green glass jars at the foot of the bath. Elly tested the steaming water with her big toe. She gasped at the initial shock of hot water scalding her cold toe and adjusted the settings of the hot and cold taps. Sinking into the bath, she breathed out a single slow breath, the emotional turbulence of the last couple of days easing out of her. Elly lay down the length of the bath and gazed up at the ceiling. The essential oils from the bath salts permeated the air, relaxing both her body and mind. The dirt and grime from her body didn’t take long to change the colour of the water. As she stretched out in the bath, Elly noticed that the tension was being released from both her neck and shoulders. She gave them a gentle massage, and her stomach growled. Mrs Morris’s pie sounded delightful and now that she was both clean and warm—just what she needed.