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“You…don’t want us?” she whispered.
It ripped his guts out. But he took the pain and forced himself to keep going, to do what was best for Carrie and his son.
“No,” he ground out. “I don’t want you.”
Hearing him speak those words was like feeling a dagger slicing past her rib cage, straight to her heart.
For the past day and a half she’d been so happy. When he’d told her in Paris that he loved her she’d been shocked, overwhelmed by joy. Every time she’d made him repeat the words that he loved her—every time he’d touched her and shown her his love with more than words—she’d been filled with a happiness so complete she’d thought she might die of it.
And now the end. He didn’t love her. He was already tired of her.
“Love always ends,” he’d said. “And it usually ends badly.”
Tearfully, she shook her head. “I can’t believe this.”
“I will always take care of you both,” he said in a low voice. He looked at her and his black eyes glittered, soulless and deep. “Because your happiness is more important to me than anything. More important than my own.”
“And yet you’re throwing us away?” she choked out. “Just like last year. Because I love you too much? Because I was clingy?”
“Yes,” he said coldly, turning away. Pushing the file of papers toward her on the deck, he glared at her. “Take it.”
Staring at the file as if it were poison that would kill her with a single touch, she shook her head wordlessly. If she didn’t touch the custody papers, if she didn’t have physical proof of his words, maybe she could pretend for a few more moments that this wasn’t happening—that it was all some kind of nightmare and she’d wake up in his strong, protective arms.
Coming around the desk, Théo forcibly thrust the folder into her hand. She felt it there, and her heart cracked in her chest. Some part of her had always known this would happen, even as she’d tried to believe her dreams might come true.
But she should have known. She should have known a man like Théo St. Raphaël would never love any woman for long…
“Now go back to America and your family,” he said brutally. “I’m done with you.”
Carrie didn’t even remember leaving the study. But suddenly she found herself outside, and the chauffeur was opening the back door. Numbly, she got in the car beside Henry’s baby seat.
“Where’s Théo?” Lilley asked from the front passenger seat. Then she got a good look at Carrie. “What’s wrong?”
Feeling like she was going to be sick, Carrie slowly turned to face her. “The wedding is off,” she said faintly. “I’m going home alone. So you don’t have to come.”
“What?” Lilley’s loud voice made the baby start to cry.
“Théo doesn’t love me,” Carrie whispered. “He wants his freedom.”
Lilley stared at her, then shook her head. “No. No way! I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
“It was a lie.” Carrie looked dully out the window. The château looked empty and cold. Even Provence itself seemed to have lost its vibrancy and color. “The wedding is off,” she said again.
“Did he say why?”
“He said I was clingy.”
Fury etched every line of Lilley’s plump, sweet face. “If that’s how he’s going to treat you, then—then…I quit!”
Carrie looked at her in shock. “But Théo’s your cousin!”
“Distant cousin. And not nearly distant enough at this moment,” Lilley grumbled. Getting out of the car, she moved to sit in the back near Carrie. As she reached across the baby seat to pat her gently on the shoulder, Lilley leaned forward to the driver. “Well, what are you waiting for? The airport!”
Tears of relief filled Carrie’s eyes. She wouldn’t have to face the long flight alone. “Thank you,” she whispered. “But what will you do in Seattle?”
As the car hummed along the road leading from Gavaudan Castle, Lilley Smith settled back in the leather seat and her eyes brightened. “I
’ll go see my boyfriend in San Francisco.”
