All the things he couldn’t bear to tell her yet.
Perhaps he’d harboured some dumb notion he could extend this arrangement past New Year. But he’d decided during the night he had to make a clean break. Stop living in some fantasy where he got to keep her.
Because that would mean a commitment he couldn’t give her. He’d seen the emotion in her eyes, the first time he’d taken her last night, after taking a direct hit from that damn tree. She was so transparent...he had no doubt at all she had convinced herself she was falling in love with him. But she didn’t know him, not who he really was. Because he hadn’t let her see that guy. The guy who had lied to his own mom for years, who had pushed away his family, who couldn’t form a commitment to anyone without screwing it up. Even his best pal Roman, it now transpired—by sleeping with his kid sister.
He’d used her, just as he’d used everyone in his life before her, everyone who got too close.
He padded to the adjoining closet. Getting dressed in silence, he ignored the sharp tug of regret at the loss of the Christmas Eve he’d had planned. The loss of the hopes he hadn’t even admitted to himself he had been harbouring for something more. Back before he’d discovered not just who she really was, but who he was too.
He wasn’t the guy who made snow angels in the park or who got emotional over a gaudily decorated Christmas tree. He was the guy who was going to keep her true identity from her, for a couple of days more, until he was able to let her go.
Once she figured that out, they’d be history. It might hurt for a little while, because beneath that veneer of practicality and pragmatism Eleanor was a hopeless romantic. A reckless adventuress who had put her faith in all the wrong people.
He left the bedroom without looking back and headed for the elevator. It was early yet, the brittle morning light struggling to seep through the snow flurries.
When he reached the parking garage beneath the building, he drew out his cell and sent her a brief text. The last thing he wanted was to be alone with her in the apartment tonight.
But as he drove out of the garage, the hollow ache in his chest only got heavier. And the thought of spending the day alone in his office, instead of with her, made him feel as if he were leaving a part of himself behind... Which he might never get back again.
Got to work today, see u for supper @ seven.
Car will pick u up.
Ellie read the text a second time, which she’d found on her phone after waking up. The pragmatic, businesslike, oddly detached tone of the text reminded her of the man who had arrived home last night with that blank look on his face.
But it’s Christmas Eve.
How could he work on Christmas Eve? She blinked, the tender spots on her body not nearly as tender as her far too easily bruised heart.
They’d made love so many times. And each time he’d held her, each time he’d taken her as if she was the only woman he would ever need, more of the lies she’d been telling herself for weeks had gone up in flames, until all that was left was the terrifying truth.
She had fallen hopelessly in love with Alex Costa, one of New York’s hottest bachelors... And the most emotionally unavailable man on the planet.
This wasn’t just the magic of the season, or all the spectacular sex—which had seemed more than a little desperate last night. This was a deep, visceral connection she was afraid she would never be able to break. Even though it was obvious Alex Costa didn’t love her back. And probably never would.
Because he’d always held a crucial part of himself back.
Should she tell him how she felt? How could she do that, when he wasn’t even here? And why was he working the day before Christmas? Had he realised how she felt somehow and decided to avoid any messy scenes today?
And what was she going to do on Christmas Eve on her own?
Snow was still falling outside, as it had been most of the morning. After seeing Alex’s text she’d rung Mel to see if he needed any extra cover for today, especially as he’d been so understanding giving her all the easy shifts since her first week. But the bar owner had told her to take a load off, chill out and enjoy her Christmas break.
Easier said than done, with my heart ready to implode.
The last thing she needed was more time to think about things.
She needed something to distract her.
She’d always been so good at making her own entertainment as a kid, because she’d had to be. How had she lost that in the last three weeks?
Perhaps it was time she got it back.
Heading down to the screening room in the penthouse’s lavish entertainment suite, she made herself popcorn, poured a glass of vintage champagne, doctored it with orange juice—it was barely noon, after all—then grabbed the best seat in the house, and searched the massive inventory of movies at her disposal with the word ‘Christmas’.
Lovesick she might be, and about to be ceremonially dumped, but she refused to allow her wayward heart or Alex Costa’s taciturn behaviour to ruin the best Christmas ever.
Ellie jerked awake at the sound of the phone ringing. Yawning, she switched off the adorable old-school Christmas romcom about a girl and a guy and a meeting on the Empire State Building at midnight—most of which she’d missed—and grabbed the phone. Perhaps Alex had changed his mind about avoiding her all day?