“I didn’t really come hungry. I thought I might order something if the mood struck me, but I was too invested in what you two were talking about to pay attention,” I said, smiling.
“A hardworking woman who is also gorgeous. If Brett doesn’t treat you well, I want you to give me a call,” the man said, grinning.
I wrapped my arm around him and hugged him before we left. And as Brett escorted me out of the restaurant, I felt his hand fell against my back. It shot heat up my spine. He hadn’t touched me in days. The two of us slid into the car waiting for us at the curb, and he turned to me with a massive smile as he clapped his hands.
“Holy shit, we did it,” he said.
“You’re settling in Paris,” I said.
“Holy… fuck. We’re actually going to look at properties tomorrow.”
He chuckled and shook his head, and the sight of him being so excited filled my soul with such pride.
“I’m proud of you, Brett,” I said.
“I can’t believe it’s happening,” he whispered.
“We should do something to celebrate. A milkshake, or some sparkling juice. Or a movie,” I said.
And just as the light had risen in his eyes, it dimmed.
“Or we can just sit and talk about it. I’m sure there’s a lot to discuss regarding purchasing property in Paris,” I said.
Anything to get him in my presence again.
“I don’t know, Olivia. I think maybe I just need to sleep on it,” he said.
“What? We just had the best meeting back there. Things are going well. We can go celebrate professionally. As colleagues.”
“But being my colleague wasn’t the only reason I brought you out here,” he said.
I furrowed my brow. “I know. You framed it as a pleasure cruise, but I knew better than that. It’s fine, Brett. Really.”
“No, no, no. It—it wasn’t pleasure, but it wasn’t just business.”
I cocked my head. “I don’t get it.”
“It’s fine. There’s nothing to get at this point. At least, now as I know it, anyway.”
“What does that mean?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. It means nothing. We’re going to head back to the hotel and get some sleep. I’ve got a long day of going out and viewing properties tomorrow.”
“You mean we do?” I asked.
“No. I do. You don’t need to be on your feet like that.”
I was hurt. Like someone had stabbed me in the chest. I watched Brett turn his gaze out the window, and I relegated myself to the other side of the seat. My eyes watched the lights of Paris pass by, not registering their beauty or their presence. My stomach rolled, but for a different reason. I felt my heart shatter and bleed into my sternum. He didn’t want me here. He had wanted me here. And now, he didn’t know. He wasn’t sure.
And all because I had fucked up.
“Maybe I should just go home,” I murmured.
“What was that?” Brett asked.
“Nothing. Just talking to myself,” I said.
30
Brett
My mind was everywhere. It bounced all over the place as I woke up that morning. I heard Olivia already shuffling around in the living room, probably soaring through her morning routine I’d become so accustomed to. A bowl of fruit with her feet propped up on the table. Strawberries, blueberries, cantaloupe, and rambutans, the oddest concoction that only reinforced her current state. I rubbed my eyes awake with the heels of my palms and sighed. I’d had so many things planned for this trip. So many little things to show her how I felt.
And with every city we ventured to, I’d had to cancel something.
In Amsterdam, it had been dinner our last night there. In London, it had been a stroll through the castles at night, when they were lit up with lights and no one else was there and we could explore the gardens by ourselves. And for Paris, it was a rooftop dinner, complete with a personalized menu and a fresh bottle of white wine for us to drink while we talked about how we felt about each other. Where our heads were. Where our hearts were. Where we saw this going. I had planned all of that shit only hours before she’d dropped that bomb into my lap.
And with each city we bypassed, I canceled the romance I had planned for her.
I couldn’t stomach it. It felt wrong. It felt fake. I had no idea what to do, but romantic hand-held strolls and honest, romantic dinners underneath the Paris stars wasn’t what needed to happen. That much I knew.
I listened as Olivia paced the floor outside. Her shadow moved to and fro underneath the crack of my bedroom door. There wasn’t enough space. I still felt smothered by her presence. I rolled over and picked up the hotel suite phone that sat on my bedside table. I dialed the front desk, closing my eyes as the phone rang.