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For a wild moment Sophy’s heart soared. ‘How would that work?’
He said, ‘You could move in here, if you like. You said you’re working in central London. I’ll be in London regularly over the coming months as I’ve got a project starting up and I need to be on hand.’
Her heart dipped. ‘You mean...this is just a temporary thing.’
‘Well, for as long as we want each other.’
Her disappointment was so acute that Sophy nearly doubled over. Nothing had changed. He was just looking for an extension of their affair.
Sophy turned and walked back over to the window, not wanting Apollo to see the effect of his words on her. She spoke to the glass. ‘So what you’re talking about is essentially making me your mistress?’
Apollo looked at Sophy’s slender back. He still had the taste of her on his tongue. The feel of her body under his hands.
‘You can call it what you like, I’m talking about continuing this relationship.’
She turned around. ‘But just the physical side of it. And once that’s fizzled out then we get on with our lives?’
Frustration bit into Apollo. ‘Can you walk away from what’s between us?’
She came closer and to his shock he saw moisture in her eyes. It was like a punch to the gut.
She said, ‘No, I can’t walk away. But I’ll have to. You see, I want more than that, Apollo. Much more. And, unlike you, I’m not prepared to settle for less.’
Panic gripped Apollo. He felt like he was slipping down a cliff-edge with nothing to hold onto. He said, ‘How much do you want?’
She looked at him, an expression of shock and then disgust crossing her face. ‘No. I’m not talking about money. I’m talking about love. Family. Emotions. All the things you don’t want.’
As if money could buy a woman like Sophy. He felt ashamed. A great yawning chasm was opening inside Apollo—the place where he’d almost lost himself after Achilles had died. When he’d felt so terrified and alone. Abandoned. Sophy was looking at him with those huge eyes, asking him to step into that place.
He shook his head, stepped back. ‘I’ve told you, I can’t give you that.’
Sophy felt her heart crack. ‘Can’t...or won’t?’
She wasn’t expecting an answer, so she stepped around Apollo and walked towards the corridor leading to the elevator to take her back down to reality.
But she couldn’t go without telling him... She turned back and he was looking after her, jaw tight.
She said, ‘I love you, Apollo. I fell for you the night we met. I’m so sorry for what my sister put you through, but I’m glad that her actions brought us together because I might never have seen you again.’
She turned and walked out, hoping stupidly that she’d hear her voice or feel his hand on her arm. But there was nothing. She got into the elevator and the doors closed. It descended. She got out and
walked forward and out of the building like an automaton.
She went down into the nearest tube station and followed the crowd through the turnstile, not even sure where she was going. She was numb. But she welcomed the numbness, which was protecting her from incredible pain.
You could have stayed...become his mistress.
She shut the voice out. It would have killed her in the end.
She walked towards the signs for the Bakerloo Line, which would take her back to south London. At the top of the escalator, though, she heard a call.
‘Sophy!’
No. It was her stupid mind playing tricks. She was about to step onto the escalator and it came again, urgent.
‘Sophy, wait. Please!’
She heard a girl near her say, ‘I’ll be Sophy if he wants. He’s gorgeous.’
