Page 9 of The Jealous Girl

Was she actually going to the gym now, or was there another mysterious stop planned?

I rolled forward and immediately realised my mistake. In my eagerness, I hadn’t allowed Charlotte enough time to merge into the traffic on the main road, and now I was stuck, bumper to bumper, directly behind her.

My breath hitched as her gaze met mine through her rear-view mirror.

Everything in me screamed to turn away, but I couldn’t. I was frozen.

The wig. The sunglasses. The car. She couldn’t know it was me.

Could she?

Her gaze lingered, and then the corner of her mouth shifted upwards.

I swallowed as something tightened in my chest.

Did she know?

The stream of traffic finally broke and Charlotte turned left, disappearing into the flow without hesitation.

My hands trembled against the wheel as I fought to steady my breathing, unable to move. Suddenly I wasn’t sure who had been watching who.

4

THEN

Mid July

I shuffled down the aisle, frustrated by the slow progress of the line of people ahead of me. I scanned the row numbers above the seats, pretending to focus on anything but him.

He was behind me. I could sense it. Hear it. The soft thud of his footsteps, the swoosh of his bag brushing each seat as he moved. Every sound tormented me, reminding me of his closeness.

Last time we’d made this journey, we’d been cocooned together, his arm wrapped around me as we’d peered out of the window watching the landscape unfold below. We’d pointed out tiny landmarks as though we were mapping the world we were building.

This time, every part of me vibrated with the hope that we wouldn’t be seated together.

‘This is me.’ His voice cut through my thoughts.

I turned and he jerked his head towards the row beside him, and swung his bag into the empty seat.

‘Have a good flight,’ he said.

Relief washed through me. ‘Yeah. You too.’

I turned away, resuming my slow shuffle forward. But, beneath the relief, something else stirred. Something disturbingly familiar.

Disappointment.

Finally, I reached my aisle seat and lowered myself into it as passengers moved past me.

‘Sorry,’ a guy said as he paused in front of me. ‘We’re seated beside you.’

‘No worries,’ I said as I slid back out of my seat. He shuffled past, and the woman behind him murmured her thanks as she followed.

As I stood waiting for them to get settled, my gaze skimmed the rows ahead, searching for him before I even realised what I was doing. He started to turn his head, and instinctively I ducked to my right, letting the crowd of passengers shield me from view.

My heart thudded.

Why had I done that? The reaction had been instinctive, but it felt childish. I was twenty-three, too old to be hiding from anyone, least of all him. Besides, he already knew I was here.