Page 67 of The Jealous Girl

‘I have things here now,’ I said steadily. ‘A job. Friends. A life.’

But then, I’d had all that before too, and I’d given it up. For him.

Charlotte tipped her head to the right. ‘You could have left,’ she said simply. ‘Gone back to Malta. Or started somewhere new.’

She was right. I could have done. I knew that – I’d always known that. Instead, I’d stayed.

She gave a slow shake of her head, pity emanating from her. ‘You were waiting,’ she said softly. ‘Whether you want to admit it or not.’

‘That’s rid⁠—’

‘You were so infatuated with Ryan,’ she cut in, ‘that you put your life on hold for two years, waiting for a chance to try and win him back.’

‘That’s not true,’ I protested quickly. Too quickly. ‘I wasn’t waiting for him,’ I added more calmly.

Charlotte’s expression shifted. Disbelief oozing from her. It was clear what she thought.

But she was wrong. I hadn’t stayed in Dorset for Ryan. I’d stayed in spite of him.

I’d needed to salvage something from the rubble of our relationship. To have fled Dorset would have felt like admitting that coming here had only ever been about him. As though I’d uprooted my whole life for nothing.

I’d stayed because I needed to make Dorset work for me. Without him.

I nibbled my lip. Didn’t I?

‘So, what happened?’ Charlotte asked. ‘Did you get tired of waiting?’

I frowned.

‘Two years,’ she said. ‘And then suddenly you’re back in his life again.’

Charlotte’s gaze lingered on me. There was something about it. Not curiosity. Something sharper. Almost territorial.

I swallowed, a flicker of unease settling low in my stomach.

Why did it matter to her?

Why did I matter to her?

I’d stayed away from the stables. From her. And yet, here she was, in my world. Asking questions. Demanding answers. As though she had the right.

My fingers curled at my sides.

What was Ryan to her?

It wasn’t the first time that question had surfaced. But this time it came with another.

What was she to Ryan?

I forced a shrug, keeping my voice light. ‘That was a coincidence.’

‘Or did you decide to take matters into your own hands?’

‘What are you talking about?’

She scoffed. ‘You can’t expect anyone to actually believe it was a coincidence you and Ryan just happened to be on the same flight to Malta.’

‘You think I planned it?’ I shook my head in bewilderment. ‘How?’