Chapter 5
Balfour yanked Lynne to his side, his eyes icy with suspicion, but she quickly shook off his grip.
Sensing the tension, the realtor stepped in at once. “Sir, there’s been a misunderstanding–I’m just the real estate agent.“”
Balfour turned to Lynne, his brow furrowed. “You’re selling the house?”
Lynne ignored his question, calmly asking the agent to leave and promising to get in touch if anything came up.
Unwilling to be dismissed so easily, Balfour grabbed her hand again, a hint of frustration flashing in his eyes.}}
“Come on, sweetheart, which place are you selling?“}
She spoke coolly, “You misunderstood. I just think this place is a bit cramped for my work. I’m looking to move my studio somewhere bigger.”
Relief flickered across Balfour’s face, but then another thought struck him–Cynthia. He eyed Lynne cautiously, searching her expression. “Aren’t you going to ask me about the other day?” he ventured, trying to sound casual. “That girl–she’s Sexton’s sister. He was out of town and called me for help. You know how close I am with Sexton. When his sister got into trouble, I couldn’t just turn a blind eye, I—“}
Lynne picked up her purse. “I have things to do. We’ll talk tonight.”
She didn’t bother listening to the rest of his explanation, simply turning on her heel and walking out the door.
Balfour stared after her, momentarily at a loss.
She trusted him completely–exactly what he’d always said he wanted–yet instead of feeling satisfied, he was left with a strange sense of emptiness.
Balfour didn’t bring up work again. Cynthia, meanwhile, was discharged from the hospital and returned to the apartment she shared with Balfour.
As soon as she saw him leaving, she rushed over and threw her arms around him.
“Cynthia, be good. We agreed–I can’t stay overnight,” he said, trying to set boundaries.}
Cynthia paid no attention. Instead, she laced her fingers through his, guiding his hand beneath her shirt.
She smiled slyly, rising up on tiptoes to whisper, warm breath tickling his ear. “Balfour, I bought something new. Don’t you want to try it with me?”
Balfour’s eyes clouded over with desire. He couldn’t resist Cynthia’s seduction.
The two of them lost themselves in a frenzy, leaving their mark on every corner of the apartment, as if every inch of the place pulsed with their fevered passion.
Cynthia watched Balfour, satisfied, as he collapsed, exhausted, beside her. While he slept, she quietly sent a series of videos to Lynne.§
When Balfour finally woke up, he remembered he hadn’t come home all night and ran a hand anxiously through his hair, racking his brain for a plausible excuse. After settling on the most convincing story he could muster, he dialed Lynne’s number.
He launched into his explanation, but Lynne’s only reply was, “Got it.“}
For a moment, Balfour had imagined her face–crestfallen, disappointed. He’d even prepared a whole speech to coax her back. But to his surprise, Lynne’s calm was absolute.
Frowning, he began texting her a long, painstaking message.”
Later, as Lynne stepped out of the shower, she glanced at her phone and saw Balfour’s lengthy text. She barely skimmed it before deleting the whole thing.
She no longer cared about his carefully constructed lies.
On the day of Lynne’s birthday, Balfour had hundreds of Ecuadorian roses flown in, filling the venue for her party.
Their mutual friends crowded around Lynne, teasing her.”
“Lynne, Balfour really spoils you! Look at this place–everything from the decorations to the napkins is exactly your style.”
That’s for sure. He’s completely wrapped around your finger. I remember when someone just tried to chat with you–Balfour sulked for a whole week!*%
“Yeah, and remember that time a guy from your department tried to get your number? Balfour saw it and chucked a basketball at his head–gave the poor guy a concussion. He had to stay in bed for a week before he was back on his feet!”
Through it all, Lynne kept smiling.
