She and Roman talked a bit more, about everythingbutAlex—and Roman told her again there was no need for her to go to work, ever again.
But this time she didn’t get mad with him, she simply smiled—having a brother was hard work, but oddly rewarding too.
‘Let’s talk some more, soon,’ she said. Going with instinct when he nodded, she stretched up on tiptoe and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. He tensed, but didn’t draw back.
She considered that a major win before saying goodbye. Then she headed off to Mel’s through the park, feeling lighter than she had in over twelve hours.
She had a lot of thinking to do—and maybe she was dead wrong about her and Alex, maybe there was nothing to salvage, no reason to hope—but she felt so much stronger than she had when she’d woken up.
One thing was certain, she wasn’t going to let Alex call all the shots any more.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
December 26th, evening
ALEXSTAREDATthe Christmas tree in the corner of his living space. With the lights off, the branches starting to droop under the weight of way too much tinsel and a scatter of fallen needles on the floor, the damn thing seemed to be mocking him by projecting his own feelings back at him.
The tree—which had seemed so enchanting less than three days ago—now seemed hopelessly out of place in the impersonal designer space that had once represented his success so perfectly.
Why hadn’t he called the cleaning crew and asked them to take it away?
Because it’s all you have left of her.
He tensed as another wave of crippling sadness hit him, the way they’d been doing all day. Ever since he’d woken up alone, inhaled a lungful of the rich spicy scent that clung to the sheets and the empty space inside him had become a chasm.
It was a chasm he recognised from the night his father had died. But this time, the chasm felt deeper, darker and much harder to see the bottom of.
You miss her. You’ll get over it.
This desperate yearning would end, eventually. It had only been one day. But why then did it seem to touch every aspect of his life? He hadn’t been able to sleep last night, hadn’t been able to eat this morning, had barely picked at his lunch and hadn’t even been able to lose himself in work today. Nor did he have the luxury of picking up the phone and shooting the breeze with Roman, who had texted him earlier after meeting Eleanor for the first time.
Met Ellie today. Thanks for finding her. But you should have told me about the two of you. WTH?
‘You have no idea, buddy,’ he murmured into the Scotch he’d poured for himself as soon as he’d arrived home but had struggled to drink—because it reminded him of her.
But then every damn thing reminded him of Eleanor, and the devastated look on her face when he’d told her the truth about who she was, and about himself, about them.
He heard the ding of the elevator arriving.
Slamming the glass down, he headed towards the lobby, the spurt of frustration still doing nothing to fill the empty space inside him.
Whoever the hell that was, they could leave. He wasn’t in the mood for company.
But he stopped dead in the hallway as the elevator doors closed again.
He stared, the empty chasm, the crippling sadness consumed by the fierce rush of longing.
‘Eleanor?’ he whispered, his heart expanding so fast it made his throat hurt.
She looked so beautiful, the skinny jeans and sweater combo clinging to her lithe curves. Her wild hair tumbled around her shoulders, her soft skin flushed pink from the cold. He jammed his fists into his pockets to resist the urge to grab her and carry her straight to the bedroom, so he could show her how much she meant to him the only way he knew how... Scared that if he touched her, she might vanish.
‘I met Roman,’ she replied. Then let out a heavy sigh. ‘I met my brother, this morning.’
‘Yeah, I know, he texted me,’ he said, still struggling to talk. He just wanted to drink her in, every aspect of her. All the things he would miss for the rest of his life. Her smarts, her wit, her precious face and the soft Scottish brogue that wrapped around him now—if only for a little while.
‘Why didn’t you tell him about us?’
He registered the edge in her tone—hurt and confusion... And something else, something that sounded an awful lot like accusation. He frowned.Huh?