The knot in her stomach clenched. That was the thing—he wanted to move on. She … she only longed for him not to. Longed for him to want to keep her in his life.
I don’t want to lose him, I don’t want to never see him again. I don’t want it to be over!
But her wants were not going to come into it.
That was what she had to face. What she dreaded facing.
The taxi came off the flyover, threading down into the streets of London, making its way towards Shepherd’s Bush, Holland Park, the street she lived on. It drew up at the apartment block. The moment it stopped she got out, shivering in the sunless cold air, acrid with the scent of the city. Athan was paying the driver, picking up their suitcases. Politely he ushered her inside and they made for the lifts. She gave another little shiver.
‘It’s so cold after the Caribbean,’ she said, as if attempting a light remark.
Athan only smiled briefly but said nothing, not looking at her.
He would be steeling himself for his speech, she knew. How many times had he given it before? How many other women had he whisked away to paradise and then returned to earth, bidding them farewell and walking away? She felt her emotions clench, her insides hollow.
Well, what did it matter how many times before he’d done it? This would be one more time. One more It’s been good but now it’s over declamation. She hoped against hope that he wouldn’t try and give her some kind of parting gift. She hoped she wouldn’t cry. Hoped she would find the strength, the courage, to simply smile agreement at him and thank him for such a fabulous time together.
Part as friends.
Or just passing acquaintances.
Not that she would see him again. With his own apartment ready to move back into now, the rented one next door to hers would not be necessary. He’d probably already had his things moved out. Easier that way—easier to make a clean break with her.
The lift doors opened and she got out her key, opening her door while he followed with her suitcase. He set his own down in the hallway.
‘Could you just leave mine in my bedroom?’ she asked. Her voice was steady. Light. Deliberately so.
She went into the living room. The air in the flat was stale and chill, and she moved to the wall to turn up the thermostat. She gave another shiver, but not from the cold. Temperature reset, she turned round.
Athan was standing in the centre of the room. His expression said it all. She waited tensely for him to speak. She would take it on the chin, and if nothing else behave with dignity.
I won’t plead, I won’t cry, I won’t question. I’ll just accept and move on—the way he will.
He still wasn’t saying anything. He just stood there, tall, with a forbidding air about him. His face was like a mask—completely closed.
Then, abruptly, he spoke.
‘I have something to say to you.’
A faint, puzzled look shadowed her eyes. His voice was so hard—so harsh. Surely he didn’t have to be so hard? Wasn’t there a … civilised … way of doing this? Of parting after a brief, incandescent affair that could not possibly last?
Did he see it in her eyes, her puzzlement, as if she were flinching a little from the severity of his tone? If he did, it only made his expression harden. The knot in Marisa’s stomach suddenly tightened and adrenaline prickled in her veins. It was as if something bad … worse … were about to happen, and her body was steeling itself. For the first time she started to feel not just dread of him telling her it was over, but dread at something quite different …
Because what she could see in his closed, hard expression was something she had never seen there before.
It was anger.
Leashed, tightly gripped, but there. Like a force field emanating from him. She felt the dread change inside her—change into something else.
He was looking at her with eyes she’d never seen before. No flecks of gold—only bladed steel.
What is it? What’s happening? Why is he being like this?
The questions flurried through her head. Bewildered apprehension showed in her eyes and her body tensed, flooded with adrenaline.
Then he struck.
‘You will not be seeing Ian Randall again. You’re out of his life for good.’