It wasn’t the fact that Celia had told him she loved him that had put the fear of God into
him. No. That made him feel as if he were on top of the world, as if he were the strongest, bravest, best man in the world.
It was the fact that she’d suggested that he was in love with her. He hadn’t wanted it to be true because he’d always thought of love as dangerous. Treacherous. Life destroying and very much not for him.
But maybe it didn’t have to be like that. Maybe it could be as lovely as Celia had said. She’d scared the life out of him when she’d told him that he was in love with her, but really what was there to be scared of? Dan seemed to be doing all right.
Maybe when it came down to it, there came a time when you had to stop wallowing in the past and get on with things. Like life. And maybe that time was now.
‘Are you all right?’ said Dan, who’d abseiled down the wall and was looking shocked and a bit pale.
‘Never felt better,’ said Marcus, now burning with the need to sort out the utter balls-up he’d made of things.
‘Are you sure? No whiplash? Torn muscles?’
The only muscle tearing was his heart, because when he thought of what Celia must be going through because of his thick-headed selfishness it made him physically hurt.
‘I’m fine.’
‘You scared the life out of me.’
‘Sorry.’
‘That’s all right. Anyway it’s only fair since I probably scared the life out of you.’
Ah, thought Marcus as it all became clear. His friend, with all his talk of love and marriage happening to him one day, all that nonsense about Celia being tough and difficult and uncompromising prodding him into accepting the truth, was more perceptive than he’d ever given him credit for.
‘Thanks, Dan,’ he said, lowering himself to the floor and unbuckling his harness.
‘No problem,’ said Dan with a broad grin. ‘First Kit, now you. What can I say? It’s a gift. In fact I ought to start charging.’
‘Then send me the bill. Right now, though, I need to go.’
* * *
When she’d told Marcus she’d wait, Celia had assumed he’d need maybe a week to realise he was in love with her and come to terms with it. A fortnight at the most. But here she was a month after he’d walked out on her and she still hadn’t heard a word.
She’d started off so patient, so calm and confident, absolutely certain that she’d done the right thing in putting the ‘love’ thing out there for him to confront, but as the days had dragged by and he still hadn’t come to find her her calm had shattered, her confidence had crumbled and she’d slowly fallen apart inside.
The past week had been agony. She’d thought love sounded lovely, but it wasn’t. It hurt like hell. She only had to think of him and she physically ached. Something would happen, something she’d do, and she’d want to tell him. The first time she’d felt the baby kick, the job offer she’d received, the stupid mobile she’d bought for a nursery that she didn’t yet have... She’d picked up the phone. And then had to put it down again, her heart wrenching and her eyes stinging.
And while outwardly she put on a good front, catching up with friends, keeping doctor’s appointments and house-hunting, her heart had broken piece by tiny piece. Until now there was practically nothing left of it.
Nothing left of anything really, she thought miserably. She was all out of anger at his obstinacy. All out of frustration. And all out of hope.
She’d been so stupid. So naive. Had she really thought she’d be able to defeat his strength of will? Had she really been so arrogant as to presume she knew what he was feeling?
If only she hadn’t resigned. Then at least she’d be working, keeping so busy that she wouldn’t have time to think about him. But she had, and as a result she’d thought about little else, wondering what he was doing, who he was with, and driving herself mad by going over that last conversation and beating herself up with regret over pushing him too hard too soon, wishing so much she hadn’t done it.
But she couldn’t change any of it. All she could do was learn to live with it and hope that by Kit and Lily’s wedding next weekend she’d have built up enough strength to handle seeing him.
It wasn’t as if she’d be able to drink herself into oblivion to get through it, was it? So maybe she’d take a date. If she could find one who didn’t mind her five-months-pregnant belly. Maybe she’d hire someone instead. Someone witty and gorgeous and who’d pretend to be utterly devoted to her. Someone who’d show Marcus that she wasn’t missing him. Wasn’t thinking about him. Wasn’t—
The buzzer buzzed and Celia jumped. She cast a quick glance at the clock and frowned. She was going out with friends tonight in an effort to perk herself up, but the taxi she’d ordered was an hour early. Damn. Maybe she’d given the wrong time. A couple of months ago she’d never have made such a mistake but now it felt as if she was making them all the time.
Whatever had gone wrong, she wasn’t anywhere near ready. She was still in her dressing gown, make-up free and her hair was still wet. She wasn’t going anywhere for a while, so with a sigh she walked over to the intercom and lifted the handset.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘there’s been a bit of a mix-up. Could you come back in an hour?’