Time with Mr. Silver: A Forced Proximity Steamy Romance (The Men Series #7)
Time with Mr. Silver: Chapter 39

Two months later

THE BALLOONS KEEP COMING.

He could have gotten bored by now.

Ninety days.

Ninety days. Some days blue. Some days white. Every day a sunrise photograph.

But still not a word spoken.

“This is ridiculous,” I mutter, parting the silver ribbons with my arms like I’m swimming so that I can get to my bedroom door.

Ridiculous, yet I’ve kept every single one. I’ve not tied them into bundles or cut their ribbons shorter. I’ve left them like a sky above me. Just like he planned. Because a pathetic part of me—my heart—won’t let me do anything else with them. Not when looking at them tells me he’s thinking about me too.

Because I still think about him.

All. The. Time.

I can’t escape it. It hasn’t gotten less frequent with each passing day. In fact, I’d say it’s gotten worse. When I first came home, emotional exhaustion from all that happened, combined with jet lag, meant that I slept, albeit at odd times. But now, just getting to sleep at all is a struggle. Memories of him, of us, play on a never-ending loop in my head.

Bonfires, sunrises, tattoos, smiles, laughs… kisses… deep brown eyes…

Dax Silver has fucked up my head so much it no longer feels like my own.

And it just confirms to me that I was never in love with Gareth all those years ago. Because all I felt after we broke up was hurt and humiliation. But since being parted from Dax, I also feel an indescribable loss. Loss for what could have been. And I know that he could do anything, literally anything to me, however awful, and a part of me would still feel like it has died without him. A part of me would still want to forgive him and be with him.

Because everything makes more sense with him around.

I feel like me; the me I’m supposed to be.

But he’s not here asking for forgiveness. So I’ll never know which part of me would win. That part, or the part that curses his name every time another balloon arrives.

“Rose?” Harley calls as she walks up the stairs toward me. She’s come to meet me so we can go to Manhattan today for another wedding dress fitting.

“Hey.” My stomach sinks as she appears, holding another brown box.

“Oh, wow.” She looks behind me into my room. “They’ve taken over.”

I shrug. She’s right. The ceiling of my bedroom is no longer visible.

I take the box from her to leave on my bed until later, but the sound of something scraping around inside it takes me by surprise.

“I know. I noticed it making that noise. What do you think is in it?” Harley looks at the box as I put it down on the floor.

“I don’t know,” I mumble, grabbing some scissors. “Maybe some firewood for me to start a bonfire with and burn all the photographs he’s sent me.”

“Rose!” Harley’s eyes pop wide. She’s such a romantic. If I wasn’t joking, then I know she would save every photo and refuse to let me have them. She still likes Dax, I can tell. She still hopes things will work out. But any hope I had has slipped further away with each day.

I remove the lid of the box and a balloon floats out like usual. But this time it stops a little outside the box, weighted down by the photograph, and a key tied to the ribbon.

“It’s silver,” Harley gasps, looking at the balloon.

I snap my eyes away from the key and to the balloon as Harley pokes it with a finger. The whole thing shimmers, and I squint my eyes to study it.

It’s full of silver glitter.

“Why’s it different?”

“I don’t know.” I look at Harley and then at the photograph of another sunrise.

Sunrise number ninety without you. I’ve watched them all. And soon I’ll have watched more pass by without you than I spent with you. I want to explain. I want you to understand why I wasn’t honest with you about New York. It’s time you knew everything… because I’ve been missing you. Every day. Every minute. Every second. For infinity. You are everything to me, Sunbeam.

A vibration rips through me, causing my fingers to shake. I drop the photograph back into the box and there’s a dull thud as the key hits the cardboard base.

Sunbeam.

It’s the first time he’s called me it since I left.

“It’s got a tag,” Harley says as she fishes the key out of the box and detaches it from the ribbon. The balloon flies up to the ceiling without the added weight and nestles itself between two white ones.

A silver lining in a cloud.

He sent me a silver lining.

“You bastard,” I whisper, my eyes glued to the glittering silver contents of the balloon. “You complicated, selfish… beautiful bastard.”

“You okay?” Harley wraps an arm around my shoulders, and instead of tensing, I sink into her and squeeze my eyes shut. But even the backs of my eyelids are shimmering like fucking silver particles.

Why is he doing this? It’s been three months. And now he’s decided it’s convenient for him to finally tell me the truth? Send some cryptic message and a key like this is a treasure hunt and not my life.

Not my actual life. And my actual heart. And my actual feelings.

“We can go there. I’ll come with you.”

I open my eyes and look into Harley’s kind ones. She’s holding up the key and note. It’s the name of a bank with a safety deposit box number on it.

“Sure,” I sniff, straightening my shoulders. “It’s near the dress fitting place, isn’t it?” I look at the bank’s address on the note. “We can go after your appointment if we have time.”

I don’t care if we can’t fit it in. He’s made me wait this long. I’m not going to trip over myself to do as he wants. I’m not going to act like I care. Like him pushing me away isn’t the worst thing anyone has ever done to me.

I wipe underneath my stinging eyes, even though my cheeks are dry, and take in a ragged breath.

Harley’s arm tightens subtly around me. “You know, I think we have time before the appointment, if that’s okay with you? It’ll actually help me out. I needed to go there anyway.”

“You don’t use that bank.”

I know this because I’ve seen all the forms at Harley and Reed’s house that she has ready to complete with her new married name to get their accounts changed.

“We’re thinking of moving some money around. It’s one of the ones I wanted to look into,” she insists, unable to meet my eyes as she pretends. She just wants me to go there. To see what Dax is up to.

“Fine, thanks.” Sourness creeps over my tongue. I would have happily stalled going there. Avoided it for as long as possible.

Because I know that silver balloon is the last.

Dax isn’t sending any more.

He taught me how to forgive myself. But I don’t know if he taught me how to forgive him for what he’s done.

Once I replace out the truth there’s no going back in time.

The bank is busy. We have to wait to be directed to the correct person who has access to the private safety deposit boxes. With each passing minute, the back of my neck grows hotter, and the likelihood of me throwing up all over the shiny tiled floor increases tenfold.

But once the serious looking bank clerk arrives and leads us to a private viewing room, I’m focused. I can just look in the box. See Dax’s excuse and leave.

And that’s it. I don’t have to do anything else. I don’t have to process what’s in that box today. I can store it away until I’m ready.

I can hold myself together.

We take a seat at the long table and wait. The clerk returns with a long silver box, and I snort internally.

It would be silver.

“You have the other key,” he says as he uses his key to open one of the two locks on the front of the long box. “So whenever you are ready, you can open the box. There’s a bell on the wall.” He points to a button by the door. “You can call once you are finished. Please, take all the time you need.”

“Thank you.” Harley smiles brightly at him.

“Thank you,” I say, my eyes trained on the box.

He closes the door behind him as he leaves, and we sit in silence as I continue to stare at the box.

Harley places her hand over my trembling one. “Do you need me to?”

“No, no. I’ve got it.”

It takes me three attempts to get the key inside the lock. But with a deep breath, I manage to slide it in and turn it.

The contents are ordinary. I half expected a balloon to float out. But it’s just a couple of envelopes and a memory stick.

I take the first envelope out and open it. It’s copies of accounts for Julian’s business, some photographs of him looking shady with some other guys, and lots of different shipping container details and codes.

The deepening of my scowl makes my jaw ache.

Ninety days… for this?

I know Julian was running his own illegal drugs import business. The police knew. Alistair knew. None of this is news to anyone. It’s evidence that the police must have themselves.

I open the other envelope and slide the contents out onto the table. Harley gasps as she sees a piece of paper with my face on. It’s dark and I’m looking over my shoulder by the main gates of the estate. A cold dread sends goosebumps scattering up my spine as the hairs on the back of my arms stand up.

It’s the night I got separated from Jasmin and Logan when the estate had a work’s night out. The night Dax stormed down to let me in and made me promise never to be out alone at night again.

I thought he was overreacting.

The back of my neck burns as I lift the paper and read the accompanying text. The photo is part of an email chain that’s been printed out with instructions to replace out ‘who the girl is’.

Julian was watching me all that time.

There are more photos. Me out in town, drinking in the bar alone after replaceing out about Casey. They must have been taken before Dax arrived. There’s even a grainy image of me having a lap dance at the club, while Dax watches me.

There is image after image. All of me.

And beneath them all, a passport.

“Dawn East?” Harley’s brow wrinkles in confusion as she holds it open.

It’s my picture.

“Dawn for the sunrise, rising in the east,” I murmur as I frown at the name. “He got me a fake passport.”

“And an escape plan by the looks of it.” Harley holds up a card of a private plane company with a name of who to ask for should I call it.

“I don’t understand.” Dizziness makes my head swirl.

“There’s so much evidence here,” Harley says as she sifts through the documents. “It’s like he was building up an insurance policy in case the police’s investigation didn’t work.”

I snort. “Sounds about right. Dax didn’t trust the police. Not since Julian pulled strings at the trial and got him sentenced more harshly. And then someone was paid to stab him in jail.”

She continues reading. “And the documents for you. He thought you were in danger. Oh, God, Rose.” She drops the paper on the table and covers her mouth with her hands. “Do you think you still could be? But Julian is in jail. So it’s over, right?”

My heart stalls. “No… I’m definitely not.” I take a deep breath. “His note wasn’t a warning. The only reason he would have me come here and see all this, if it wasn’t because he thought I needed to use it, is if he knows the threat has gone. That has to be it. It’s been months. He wouldn’t have waited all this time to show me this otherwise. He’s trying to explain. But it still makes no sense.”

“What shall we do with it?” Harley lifts another piece of paper and scans the details of the overseas bank account that’s been set up in the name Dawn East. The amount deposited in it makes my eyes water.

“We put it back in and we walk out of here,” I say, my voice coming out calmer than I expect. “I don’t need it. I’m not going anywhere. And the only one who can explain what it all really means is Dax.”

“You’re sure?”

I gather up the contents of the box and place it all back inside, closing the passport and placing it on the top.

“I’m sure. When I last spoke to Jasmin, she said Julian wasn’t getting bail. He’s miles away, back in England. Just like Dax. I’ll call Jasmin when we get outside. But it’s fine.” I take another deep breath as I lock the box and then press the bell on the wall. “It’s fine.”