Chapter 16
SKYE SKIMMED THE NUMBER plate, ready to wave her hand and flag down her Uber driver, but the number plate wasn’t quite right and the van drove on, almost splashing her from the water laying grey and sludgy in a pothole on the road. She took a step back and looked to the sky, a heavy, thick lead colour, threatening rain, as it had been all morning.
She checked her phone, only to see that the Uber driver’s location hadn’t moved. Was he getting a coffee or something, she thought, with irritation. Unfortunately, beggars couldn’t be choosers and at the crack of dawn on Christmas Day, the city was hardly plentiful with Uber drivers. But it was cold and drizzly, and Skye just wanted to get on her way, to put all of this behind her.
She clutched her suitcase, trying not to think about what she was leaving behind, telling herself she had no option but to leave him.
He didn’t love her.
He’d never loved her, and she wasn’t stupid enough to think she could ever change his mind.
Skye checked the Uber again—still stationary—but a big, black four-wheel drive was pulling to a stop right in front of her, taking up the space she’d been trying to hold for her driver.
“Great, just great,” she muttered under her breath, moving to the side so the Uber driver could still see her. She was gripped by a need to escape. She loved Paris and she loved Matthieu but she couldn’t stay here a moment longer. Not now that she knew this had all been ‘fun’ for him. All pretend. Fake. Not real. Tears threatened to spill over and Skye blinked furiously, refusing to give into them. Maybe when the plane took off, and she knew this was behind her, she’d allow herself to feel, fully, the weight of his rejection. She wasn’t ready yet.
Too distracted by her thoughts, Skye didn’t see Matthieu step out of the car. It was only when he began to stride towards her that she blinked in his direction and felt as though she was going to jump out of her skin.
“It’s you,” was all she could say, her eyes huge, her lips parted, her heart slamming into her ribs in an assault that almost crippled her.
His only response was to close the distance between them and draw her to him, to kiss her lips as though he were dying and she alone could save him, to hold her body against his until their hearts beat in unison and Skye, who loved him so very, very much, and had been about to fly away from him forever, kissed him back with complete abandon, because no matter what, this was a chance to say goodbye, to see him once more, before turning her back on this life, even when she desperately wanted to stay.
“Tell me you’re not leaving,” he said against her lips, the words almost a groan.
She pulled away then, sanity replacing relief, as she tried to grab hold of her indignation and determination. “I have to,” she said, not looking at him.
“Why?”
She rubbed her lips together. Rain began to fall—just a few heavy, fat splashes, landing against her head. She pulled her coat tighter. “Because I—,” she forced her eyes to his. “You know why.”
“I can’t let you go,” he ground out.
Her heart gave a strange little flip. “Why not?”
“Come upstairs?”
She shook her head. “I’ve got a plane to catch.”
He expelled a harsh breath. “You can’t be serious?”
“I told you, I can’t stay here. I can’t go through with our deal. I need to go home and…work out who I am.”
“Is that what you want?”
Her lower lip trembled. “What I want is—,” but how could she tell him? How could she admit how many fantasies she’d begun to spin around their life together being real?
“Fine, if you won’t come upstairs, sit with me in the car. Talk to me.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “On one condition.”
“Okay.”
“Take me to the airport.” Her voice wavered. “I don’t want to miss my plane.”
“Deal.” He reached for her suitcase, his expression dark as he lifted the bag into the boot then opened the back door for her. She got in, careful not to touch him, because their kiss had already ignited her bloodstream and she knew she could easily surrender to those feelings and lose her resolve.
“Thank you. My Uber driver hasn’t moved for twenty minutes,” she said, nervously. “And there aren’t many around. Merry Christmas, by the way.”
He dipped his head in a silent nod, pressing a button so that a screen formed between them and the driver, as the car pulled out from the kerb.