Page 12 of The Jealous Girl

Last time, our hands had rested on the middle seat between us, our fingers entwined. The future had stretched out ahead of us then. Full of promise and excitement.

I swallowed. It was hard to believe it had only been a little over two years ago. It felt like another lifetime now. And the man that I’d thought I’d known without question was barely more than a stranger.

My fingers twitched. For a second, the urge to reach for him was so strong.

I shook my head. It didn’t mean anything. Just muscle memory. A reflex from a time when reaching for him had been as instinctive as breathing.

That time was gone.

I pressed my hands tighter together, forcing the feeling away, as I focused back on the view outside.

I blinked, realising the traffic had thinned. I hadn’t noticed how far we’d come. I’d been too busy looking backwards. The four-lane highway had faded away behind us, and now low stone walls stretched along the roadside, pale and worn, boarding uneven fields of dry grass and brown shrubs.

I caught a glimpse of a thin strip of blue sea on the horizon, and I edged forwards in my seat, peering through the windscreen as the road curved to the right and then, there it was. The hotel.

Sand-coloured and sprawling, partially built into the hillside as though it belonged there. It looked exactly as I remembered it. Unchanged.

My chest tightened.

Even though everything else had.

The taxi slowed as we approached the place that had once meant everything. The only solace was that it was big. Big enough that we could both exist there without colliding.

I couldn’t just turn around and get on the next flight home. Ryan had already run me out of my life once before.

Not this time.

If anyone was leaving early, it would be him.

5

NOW

Late August

Monday

I ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time as I fumbled in my pocket for my key. My toe caught on the top step and I lurched forwards, barely catching myself before I fell.

‘Idiot,’ I muttered under my breath.

I reached the door and tugged the key free, forcing my hand to steady as I lifted it to the lock. It scraped harshly against the metal before sliding in. I twisted it quickly and shoved the door open, stepping inside and pushing it shut behind me. My hand flew to the latch, flicking it into place in one sharp movement.

Only then did I stop.

I leaned back against the door, my breath uneven.

This was ridiculous. Nothing had happened. I couldn’t even be sure she had recognised me. That look, that smile, might not have meant anything. Maybe she just liked my hair. Or my sunglasses.

I snorted, or maybe she was laughing at them.

She hadn’t stopped. She hadn’t spoken to me. She’d just looked.

I squeezed my eyes shut, replaying the moment. The way her eyes caught mine through her mirror. The slight twist of her mouth. Or maybe I’d imagined that.

You always read too much into things.

Janine’s voice slipped into my thoughts, quiet but certain.