None of this stuff would last a day.
I gather all the visual evidence and think that this is someone who is either single or with grown-up kids. This points me in the only direction I can think of. And what I have suspected since I met Renee.
‘Elias,’ I say out loud.
Has he lied to me about this being a rental property? Has he bought this as a home, and he doesn’t want me to know?
I rumble about in a bedside drawer, knowing that I shouldn’t snoop, but also desperate for confirmation. There I find a utility bill with Elias’s name clearly printed. It’s the last bit of evidence I need; I am utterly devastated that Elias has lied to me once again. But why? The only answer I can think of is that he still doesn’t trust me. Does he truly think that I am after his money, just as Danny does? I slump down on the kitchen bar stool as I realise that we don’t have much of a future if we have continuous trust issues between us.
Chapter Thirty-Three
As I consider the fact that Elias has lied to me once again, I think about my journey these past few months when I arrived in the French Riviera. I came here believing that I would never trust any man again, and look what’s happened. I have been proved right not to trust anyone.
Perhaps I just got carried away with the beauty of the region and the fondness that grew between Elias and me. This magical place spurred me on to believe a stranger’s words and to write the love story that I always wanted to. As I finish off my book, I reflect on how it isn’t about a knight on a white horse saving a damsel in distress, but about a man who helps a woman love herself again and find out what she really wants from life through deep conversations long into the night under the stars. Something that happened in real life with Elias. But now, as I am about to type in the final words of the book I have longed to write for many years, I hesitate. Is there really such a thing as an honest, loving man? I am beginning to have my doubts.
I should be celebrating this moment with Elias and not sat here alone with the realisation that he has lied to me yet again. I am glad I didn’t confront him over the phone, as I think the frank discussion we need will be better done in person. So, I decide not to mention anything until he returns, when I imagine I will leave here and never see Elias again. I recognise that I made the mistake of letting my barriers down, and the lovely dream I had started to believe in has come crashing down around me. The disappointment is too much, and I burst into tears. It feels ironic, crying somewhere so beautiful, with so much luxury around me. If a stranger saw me in this villa, they’d think I have everything, but I have never felt so despondent and disillusioned.
As promised, three days after Elias flew out, a hire car pulls into the driveway. At least he kept his word about not staying away too long.
Elias is full of smiles as he walks in and wraps his hands around my waist. I kiss his cheek gently but can’t reciprocate his enthusiasm at our reunion.
‘Oh, I missed you. It’s so good to be back.’
‘Yeah… Me too. How were things with Danny? All sorted?’
‘Yes. He kept saying there was more to help him with, even as I walked out the door. But I refused. I wanted to get back to the beautiful lady waiting in the sunshine for me.’
I manage a smile, although my head is full of questions.
‘So, what have you been up to? Have you been swimming every day? Did you venture to the beach? Tell me all about your stay,’ says Elias.
‘Oh. I’ve been working the whole time. I managed to finish the book.’
‘You did? Well, that means we must celebrate tonight. Why didn’t you say anything on the phone when we spoke?’
‘You were busy with Danny and, anyway, I only just finished…’
‘Is everything okay? I thought you’d be over the moon that you finally finished the book. I thought this was your life-long dream. What’s up?’
Elias has hardly put his bags down, and I am still making us a coffee. I can’t plough into him right away, but neither can I stand not saying what is on my mind. I let out a big sigh.
‘What is it?’ asks Elias once again.
‘It’s just that… Well… I asked you who owned this villa.’
‘Yeah, and?’
‘Well, the next-door neighbour said it was someone from the UK.’
‘And there are lots of people from the UK who buy places in France. I don’t get what you’re trying to say.’
‘When I asked you who owned the villa, you specifically said it was someone French.’
‘I may have said I thought it was, yes.’
‘But I think it belongs to you and for some reason you won’t admit it.’
‘Why would I do that?’
