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‘I have never expected perfection from you.’ His breathing had become ragged. ‘When I met you I lived in a bubble. All my life had been spent in it, a life of wealth and privilege where the most important thing was to keep up the public face. You were the first person outside of that bubble that I noticed. I fell for you the first moment I saw you. All I wanted to do was scoop you up and pull you into the bubble with me and protect you. Can you understand that?’
‘Yes, I can, but can’t you understand that your bubble suffocated me? I wanted so desperately to make you proud, to be the perfect wife, to hold my own beside you, to give you the beautiful mini Cazorlas we both wanted—and I did want them too, I really did, but I needed to find my self-respect first. I never found it with you because the pressure of living up to the perfection of your life was just too much.’
The walls of the surrounding buildings seemed to close in on her, crowding her, squeezing her, like creatures from the horror film her fairy-tale marriage had turned into.
She gazed at him, feeling an almost unbearable sadness loom down on her. He looked haggard, as if he’d been told his entire fortune had been lost for ever.
‘Raul, your whole life is about perfection. Perfect business, perfect house, perfect car, perfect wife, perfect everything. Perfect, perfect, perfect. Look at the new centre for Poco Rio—when it’s done it will be perfect and that will be down to you.’
She wiped the tears away only to find a fresh torrent pouring down. ‘I’m sorry. We’re just too different, don’t you see that? What we had should never have been more than a summer fling. I can’t do it. I can’t live that life again. I can’t live permanently with you again.’
God forgive her, she knew she was being unfair and cruel but fear had caught her in its grip so tightly she would have said anything to relinquish it.
And Raul...forget losing his fortune, he looked as if he’d had all the stuffing knocked out of him.
‘Answer me this,’ he said, his voice hollow. ‘If you don’t want me, what do you want?’
That brought her up short.
‘I don’t know. All I know is I don’t want to lose sight of who I am again. I just want to be me, Charley.’ She raised her shoulders and stared at him. ‘I want to be happy.’
‘And you don’t think you can be happy with me?’
‘No. I can’t be happy with you.’
A shudder ran through her at the same time his face blanched.
She wished she could take it back, all her words, or soften them somehow. But she couldn’t. The words wouldn’t form.
Raul shoved his hands in his trouser pockets and straightened, visibly composing himself. ‘If that’s how you feel, there’s no point in prolonging this conversation any further. I’ll drive you home’
‘To my house here?’
He gave a sharp nod, not looking at her. ‘If that is what you want.’
‘I think that would be for the best.’
On shaking legs, Charley walked back to the Lotus, which was still abandoned in the middle of the road, headlights still beaming.
Not a single word was exchanged until they pulled up onto her small driveway, the outside lights switching on automatically and bathing them in colour.
His gaze fixed ahead, Raul said, ‘I’ll arrange for your stuff to be couriered back to you.’
‘Thank you.’
‘And I’ll get Ava to liaise with you about the cruise fundraiser.’
All she managed was a nod, her throat so tight it felt as if she were choking.
When she got out of the car she shut the door softly, sending a silent apology for all the times she’d slammed it in anger.
Don’t look back. Don’t look back.
She fumbled in her bag for her door key, having a moment of panic as she wondered if she’d taken it out at some point over the past few months. Her fingers gripped on the cold metal...
‘Charley.’
She looked back to see Raul standing by his door. ‘The new centre... It was you, not me. Everything it is and everything it will be is because of you.’
It wasn’t until she stepped into her home and locked the front door that her legs gave way.
He’d called her Charley.
Back to the wall, she slid onto the floor, curled into a ball and sobbed so hard her broken heart shattered all over again.
* * *
Raul let himself into the villa and threw his keys on the sideboard.
The house sat in silence, the staff having long retired for the night.
He rubbed his temples and headed to the bar. After fixing himself a neat Gin de Mahón, he sat on a stool, used the remote to turn the television on, and flicked through the sports channels until he found the highlights of the evening’s La Liga games.
