‘Oliver…’ Helen pulled away from David and turned towards him, clearly embarrassed and Oliver managed a smile. In fact, he was fairly proud of the smile. Considering the way he was feeling, it was a hell of a convincing smile.
But he didn’t want Helen feeling guilty.
He knew better than anyone how confused she’d felt over David and if she wanted him back in her life he certainly wasn’t going to stand in her way.
‘I need to go to the surgery.’
‘But you’re not working.’
He gave a shrug and reached for his keys and his coat. ‘You know me by now, Helen. I’m always working.’
And he no longer had a reason to stay.
Helen stared after Oliver and suddenly everything was clear.
Like the mist lifting from the mountains, she suddenly saw what she wanted her future to be with perfect clarity.
But was it too late?
Was Oliver just going to walk away from what they’d shared the night before?
She stood frozen to the spot and then the heavy slam of the front door galvanised her into action and she sprinted after him, desperate to talk to him, totally oblivious of the fact that David was still standing in the kitchen.
She tugged open the front door, frantic to get to Oliver, but Oliver put his foot down, scattering shingle and snow as he drove away at speed.
‘No!’ Feeling utterly desolate, Helen’s slim shoulders slumped and she stared after him helplessly. Then she noticed the four-wheel drive.
He’d taken the sex machine. Which meant she could go after him.
Lost in thought, she gave a start as she felt a hand on her shoulder.
She’d totally forgotten about David.
He stared after Oliver’s car with disapproval. ‘Who was that? He was driving far too fast for the road conditions.’
‘That,’ she said quietly, ‘is the man I love. And he’s used to the road conditions. He’s lived here all his life.’
She turned, noticing how ridiculous David looked in his expensive suit. She’d always thought he was good-looking but suddenly she found herself noticing that his shoulders weren’t as broad as Oliver’s and he didn’t smile with his eyes. In fact, no matter which way you looked at it, he just wasn’t Oliver.
She tried to imagine David climbing into a ditch to save a woman’s life or making a call on a Sunday unless he was being paid an exorbitant hourly rate.
She tried to imagine David making love to her the way Oliver had the night before.
Her face heated at the memory and she gave a soft smile.
Love.
That was the secret ingredient.
That was the reason it had felt different.
‘Are you seriously suggesting that you love that man? You can’t possibly love him.’ David looked at her in bemusement. ‘You can’t have known the guy for more than a few weeks.’
‘But time doesn’t have anything to do with it, does it David?’ she said quietly, suddenly desperate to go after Oliver and talk to him. ‘You and I were together for six years, but I don’t think you ever knew the real me. And I don’t think I knew you either.’
David looked thoroughly out of his depth. ‘Shall we continue this conversation indoors?’ he suggested, glancing up at the sky with a frown. ‘It’s freezing out here.’
Helen shook her head. ‘Actually, I like it out here. The air is really clean and there isn’t anything more to be said. I’m really glad you came, David, because it helped me realise that we are not a good match.’