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Gabe wanted to speak out. To tell her that she had helped, that with her he had finally confronted memories locked away for too long.
To tell her how much he liked her too. That he lay awake at night replaying every single moment of that kiss, his skin heating where she had touched him.
But he didn’t know how to.
Polly took a deep breath. ‘I don’t know what love is, not really. But I think we were close. At least, I was close. The closest I’ve ever been. But I have the baby to think of, the security I have promised it. Right now, it needs me to be putting it first, to be strong for it.’
She reached over and took his hand, her fingers soft in his. He curled his hand round hers, holding them tight and she raised his hand to her lips, dropping a kiss onto his knuckles. ‘My mother didn’t put us first. Or second or anywhere. Her need for love came before anything else. I guess I overcompensated, desperate to show the world that I didn’t need anyone. That I wasn’t like her. Now I wonder if maybe I took it too far. But now isn’t the time to worry about that. I can’t put myself first, not any more.’
‘No.’ What else was there to say?
‘I do believe that there’s someone out there who’ll show you that life isn’t a challenge or a goal, it’s a blessing.’ She closed her eyes, blinking back a tear. ‘I have to admit I’m a little jealous of that someone.’ Her voice was so low he hardly heard the words. ‘Maybe you’ll do it on your own. You’re strong enough, goodness knows. The burdens you bear. The misplaced guilt.’
‘I’m happy for you, really I am. But I’m fine.’ He tried to smile. ‘I don’t need fixing.’
So much for honesty. He was utterly broken and they both knew it.
* * *
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. It wasn’t easy training for an Alpine triathlon in a busy, flat city like London. It was a particularly gruelling trial, a lake swim followed by a ninety-kilometre cycle-ride and a full marathon run. Although the trails didn’t go too high up into the Tyrolean mountains it was a hilly course.
Just finishing wasn’t an option. He wanted a winning time.
There was nothing better than pushing his body to its limits. Proving he was no longer at its mercy, that his mind was in control at all times.
Control. He’d lost it the past few weeks. It was time to regain it.
Gabe stopped, leaning against a tree, and took a swig of water. It didn’t take long for fitness levels to drop. For an easy ten-kilometre jog to become a challenge.
He just needed to get his rhythm back, to regain that blissful state where all he knew was the thud of his feet, the beating of his heart.
Instead he ran to a soundtrack of Polly’s voice, sad, resigned, defeated. I like you.
And he’d said? He’d said nothing. Because what could he say?
I wish I could have helped you, the way you’ve helped me.
Of course she did. She was an achiever. Polly Rafferty didn’t like to leave tasks unfinished, a list unticked. She’d wanted to see him reconciled with his family, the past dealt with.
She was getting her happy ever after, she just wanted the same for him.
It was a shame life just wasn’t that tidy.
Gabe set off again, wiping the perspiration off his forehead as he increased the tempo. He didn’t need a happy ever after. He didn’t deserve one.
But she did.
She deserved the whole damn fairy tale. Paris at her feet.
He just hoped that she would meet someone who recognised that.
The thought reverberated around his head, the echo getting louder and louder.
Someone else.
His stomach clenched and Gabe skidded to a stop, bending forward to alleviate the cramp, hand on his side.
No, he didn’t want that for her at all.
Oh, how he wished he could be that altruistic, that selfless, that he could put her needs first. But he didn’t think he could survive watching her laugh with another man, talking cars with another man, showing off vintage designs to another man, fired up as she planned business and strategy with another man.
Kissing another man.
Raising her child with another man.
And there would be someone else. For all her brave talk about going it alone, there would be. She might not have fallen in love in the past but she’d had partners whenever she needed them. How long before the new, softer Polly was snapped up? Opened up her heart to some lucky man?
They’d be queuing around the block.
And he was just going to let them?
Gabe straightened up, oblivious to the people walking around him, the sighs and tuts from commuters unwilling to step around a human being in their well-trodden path.
Of course he wasn’t going to let them!
I like you, she had said. More than once. What must it have taken for the proud Polly Rafferty to say those words? And he hadn’t reacted. Hadn’t told her.
