Kit was sitting in the dark in the garden with a half-empty bottle of whisky and a glass when he heard the front door slam.
When Lily had gone out he’d initially been in what was now his study, kidding himself that he was working, much as he’d done every day lately.
But that was a joke, wasn’t it, because how could he concentrate on work when his life with Lily was slowly disintegrating? How could he think about anything other than the fact that it was happening again? That Lily was slipping away from him like water through fingers and, once again, he didn’t know what the hell to do about it.
He could feel that he was losing her and it scared him witless. Made him ache and filled his heart with pain.
Because he’d tried. So hard. Alone in his room that night in Rome he’d figured out his priorities and had basically changed his entire life for her. He’d decided to put her first, work second and to set about winning her back.
So with the focus and dedication that had built him a successful hotel business in five short years he’d wined and dined her. Reminded her of the man she’d fallen in love with and shown her the better man he’d become. He’d shared with her every detail of what he was doing and who he was with when he wasn’t with her. He’d stripped his soul bare for her, told her things he’d never told anyone and trusted her with everything he was.
But it wasn’t enough.
Time and time again he’d asked Lily what was wrong, and time and time again she’d looked at him, said she didn’t know. He didn’t think she was lying. She seemed so genuinely tormented by the question every time he asked that he got the impression that she was as much at a loss to understand what was happening as he was. And, unlike the night they’d argued about Paula, pushing her for an answer wasn’t going to work.
He didn’t know what would work. All he knew was that she wasn’t happy and it was just about killing him.
But what had gone wrong? he wondered, frowning out into the quiet still of the night as for about the billionth time he tried to work it out. He’d thought they’d reached a deeper level of understanding. That this time their relationship was on firmer emotional ground, but maybe he was wrong because over the weeks she’d become increasingly subdued. More watchful and wary somehow. She’d withdrawn into herself, just as she’d done before.
Maybe he’d pushed her too hard, he thought. Maybe moving in together so soon had been a mistake. Maybe she hadn’t changed in the way he’d thought—hoped—she had.
Maybe they simply weren’t meant to be together.
At the thought of that Kit felt his stomach turn inside out and something deep inside him begin to ache. And then he set his jaw and pulled himself together. No. That was rubbish. They were meant to be together. All he had to do was think of a way to fix this because what they were going through wasn’t insurmountable. It couldn’t be.
Behind him a light went on inside and as he heard Lily step out onto the terrace, the trace of her scent drifting towards him and every one of his senses zooming in on her, just as they always did, his heart began to thud with renewed resolve because the solution would come to him. Eventually. It had to.
‘What are you doing out here?’ she said softly.
‘Thinking.’
‘About what?’
How he could make things between them right. ‘Nothing much.’
She moved round into his line of sight and his heart lurched crazily the way it did every time he saw her.
But tonight something was different. It wasn’t the lack of a smile on her lovely face or the absence of the sparkle in her beautiful eyes because he’d got used to both. It was something about the way she held herself, something in the deadness of her expression, something that made him go icy-cold.
As a ribbon of apprehension and dread wound itself round his insides he felt something inside him wither and all he could think was that somehow it was too late. Somehow they’d got to a point where things couldn’t be fixed and he hadn’t noticed soon enough.
‘You’re back early,’ he said, swallowing back the sudden lump in his throat.
‘Yes.’
‘Not much fun?’
‘Not a lot.’
She sat down next to him, turned to face him, and Kit wished he could turn back time and not be here when she got back because he didn’t want this now. He didn’t want this at all. Yet on some dim and distant level he knew it had been a long time coming. Knew it was inevitable. Wished he’d had time to prepare his arguments, wished he had arguments to prepare.
‘Want a drink?’ he said.
‘No, thanks.’
‘Mind if I have one?’
‘Go ahead.’