Forever.
Because...I couldn’t be his friend.
And I couldn’t be his lover.
Because I would give everything, over and over again, and I would never have enough left over for me.
He backed over the threshold. “I’ll come back. Once Olive is settled, I’ll come back and we can try this again.”
“I think it’s best if you didn’t.”
Frustration etched his face. “This isn’t over.”
“It has to be.”
“Stop saying that. It doesn’t have to be. If you feel anything for me then we can talk and—”
“I do feel something for you.” I allowed brutal truth to break us. “I love you, Gil.”
His eyes flared, he moved to touch me. “Then let me fucking fix this.”
I held up a hand, praying my voice stayed steady. “I love you, but I can’t be with you.”
“But—”
“Please...don’t make this any harder than it is.” I clutched the door, ready to close it. “It’s done. It’s over. We just ended it.”
“So...that’s it? You don’t want to know? You no longer care?”
I shook my head, fighting the sudden tsunami of tears. “I no longer want to know. I no longer care.”
Pain that I’d never witnessed burned deep in his gaze. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? For weeks you wouldn’t stop badgering me to tell you what I kept hidden, and now that I’m finally free to tell you everything, you suddenly have no interest to hear me out?”
I locked my fingers together, keeping my curiosity buried.
I wanted to know.
I wanted to know all of it.
But...if I knew, I wouldn’t have the power to put myself first. I would risk everything because I wouldn’t have the strength to walk away.
“I wanted to know so I could protect you.” I shrugged sadly. “Now, I don’t want to know to protect myself.”
Our gaze caught.
My heart hiccupped.
He froze as he finally heard what I said. Finally accepted what I wanted. “You truly mean it, don’t you?” His voice roughened. “You’ve had enough of me.”
“I’ve had enough of lies and deceit and feeling as if I’m cheating myself out of happiness by being too weak.”
“You were never weak.”
“You make me weak.”
He swayed on my doorstep. Anger and hurt blazed in his green gaze.
A loud beeping noise came from his ankle, dragging his attention to his foot.
He growled like a beast.
He nodded.
He stared at me one last time, trying to figure out a way to stop my stubbornness.
His ankle beeped again.
His shoulders fell. “If that’s what you want.” Looking at me one last time, he whispered, Goodbye, O.”
He turned and vanished down the staircase.
Chapter Eighteen
______________________________
Olin
A WEEK PASSED.
Every day, I struggled not to hand in my notice at work.
Every night, I struggled to sleep.
Every time I went into the kitchen, I stared at the spot where we’d had sex, and a wash of regret and relief filled me.
The regret was the hardest—full of tears and heartache and the overwhelming sensation that I’d made a massive mistake.
The relief was a gentle balm—doing its best to heal me and remind me I did the right thing.
I’d done the only thing.
No matter how hard it’d been.
But it did mean I could no longer stay here and postpone my decision.
The money my parents had deposited into my bank account remained untouched, even though my salary wasn’t enough to carry my weekly bills and pay off the debt I’d accumulated while looking after Olive.
I didn’t want to owe them anything, even though their funds would be greatly appreciated right about now.
They’d tried calling again two days ago. I’d ignored it, unable to discuss the latest news articles and the ever-growing unrest about Gil’s involvement in the body painting murders.
Maybe I’d go visit them on their travels.
Maybe I’d vanish like they had.
Either way, tonight, I had a plan.
Placing a spinach and feta pizza into the oven—unable to stop my mind from thinking of Gil calling Olive his little spinach—I carried my decrepit laptop to the dining room table and turned it on.
This time, I wasn’t looking at job sites.
Clicking on the website I’d found last week that compared international airfares and found the cheapest, I hovered my fingers over the keyboard.
Birmingham to...
I bit my lip.
Hong Kong?
Vietnam?
New Zealand?
America?
Where could I find a fresh start?
Where could my mind find peace from Gil?
I deliberated while my pizza cooked and made a list of pros and cons while I ate.
I finished two glasses of wine—very aware I had the potential of becoming an alcoholic if I kept up my alone-time drinking—and decided to let fate choose for me.
Fate had messed up my life, so perhaps, it could fix it too.
Clicking on the icon that listed last-minute sales, I held my breath as one for Brisbane, Australia popped up. Warm, friendly, lots of beaches, and tanned locals. They spoke English so I could get a job. The temperate weather would be good for my ruined back, and it was too far to rush home if I feared I’d made yet another mistake.
I inputted the parameters, chose a date two weeks in the future to give me time to end my lease, hand in my notice, and sell my few pieces of furniture, and pulled my tired and battered credit card from my purse.
I peered at the faded number.
My phone vibrated across the table.
Not again.
No.
I refused to let a phone destroy every big moment of my life.
I locked my attention back onto entering my credit card details.
It vibrated again.
And again.
God!
How was I supposed to move on if so many things kept yanking me back?
Snatching my phone, I swiped it on.
Justin: When was the last time you saw Gil?
I sighed heavily, remembering all over again what we’d done when we’d last seen each other. The way he’d been inside me. The way he’d grown angry when denied a second chance. The way I couldn’t stop thinking about him even though I made a vow to move on.
Me: A week ago. Why?
Justin: He was attacked two nights ago.
My heart crawled into my throat.
Me: Attacked? How?
Justin: Two men who knew one of the murdered girls. They waited for him outside his warehouse. Beat him up pretty good.
Me: Was Olive there?
Justin: She was inside. Gil called me before she found him. Got most of the blood off but he’s stiff. I’ve just been with him for a check-up to make sure they didn’t injure his side or rupture anything internally.
Why didn’t he contact me?
You ended it, remember?
I’d given no room for negotiation, even when Gil had begged for a single conversation.
Guilt slithered through me.
Worry followed on its tail.
I’d been so selfish.
I’d chosen myself over him.