Page 35 of The Jealous Girl

‘What’s going on?’ Charlotte demanded, her gaze shifting from Ryan to me and back again.

‘Nothing,’ he said, with a shrug that lacked ease. ‘We just bumped into each other.’

I tried not to let my surprise show on my face. He could have sold me out. Told her I’d been lying in wait for him. Making accusations.

But he’d lied. To her. A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips.

‘Well, we haven’t got time to make small talk in the car park,’ Charlotte said, slipping her hand in Ryan’s.

He flinched. For a split second I wondered if he was going to pull his hand free. Instead, he swallowed and stayed silent.

‘Let’s go,’ Charlotte instructed.

Ryan nodded and stepped away. He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t argue. Just obeyed.

I stood rooted to the spot, watching as they walked away in silence, climbed into his truck and drove away without looking back.

Typical Ryan.

I froze as that thought jarred against me. It hadn’t always been the case. When we were at uni and in Malta, he’d been different. More confident and independent. It was only when we came to Dorset, when he went home, that he’d become compliant. He went along with what his parents or Charlotte said. It was as though he’d become smaller here.

Why was that?

I stumbled back to my car, my thoughts racing. Why were they constructing a relationship that didn’t exist?

He hadn’t denied it.

The realisation burrowed into my brain.

He hadn’t defended Charlotte. He hadn’t tried to convince me the photos were current. That the relationship was real.

I was no closer to knowing what was going on, but I did know one thing for certain…

He hadn’t left me for her.

14

THEN

Mid July

Ryan set two glasses of orange juice down on the table in front of me.

‘Do you want anything else?’ he asked, jerking his head towards the buffet.

‘No, I’m good, thanks.’ I smiled, lifting my croissant to my lips.

He slid back into the chair opposite, squinting slightly in the bright morning sun. ‘I still can’t get used to sitting out here on the terrace as a guest, instead of being the one serving.’

‘Ah,’ I said, tapping my glass with a small knowing smile. ‘That explains the orange juice.’

‘Old habits,’ he said with a chuckle.

My gaze lingered on him for a moment. The cut above his eyebrow had scabbed over days ago and was already starting to flake around the edges.

Time was moving so quickly and yet… ‘It feels like a lifetime since we worked here, doesn’t it?’ I said softly.

Ryan tilted his head. ‘In some ways, yeah,’ he said slowly. ‘But being back here with you…’ He hesitated. ‘It almost feels like yesterday.’