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But instead of feeling jubilant, he felt like utter crap. Maybe even a little lost since working the case these past few days had allowed him to focus on something other than Waverley and that look on her face when he’d let her think that their time together hadn’t meant something. That she hadn’t meant something.
His fingers tightened over the steering wheel, as he was pissed at himself for hurting her like he had. But at the time, he hadn’t seen any other alternative. It had felt like the right thing to do, to let this thing die right then before things got too complicated.
He was doing her a favor in getting out early. Saving her from the embarrassment and pain later when it became clear to her that he would never fit into her fancy, high-society life where people dropped a couple hundred bucks on a fancy coffee machine or took private helicopters to far-off island destinations on the spur of the moment.
But reliving that moment, seeing the crushing pain in her light brown eyes almost as if he’d kicked her was slowly killing him.
When she’d walked out, he had thought about going after her and telling her why he was acting like a selfish asshole and how he was sure that she’d be better off without him, but he’d stopped himself. He’d gone after her before, and that had ended up with them sleeping together and getting caught in the illusion that their relationship had a chance.
If he’d stayed strong that night, then maybe this loss wouldn’t be as painful.
Then again, losing Waverley then or now didn’t seem like it would have ever felt less like someone had pulled his heart out of his chest and stomped on it.
There were a lot of people milling around on the sidewalk as he got out of his car and headed to the office, people smiling and strolling as they enjoyed the warmer weather. He couldn’t wait to get away from them.
At least, that’s what he’d thought up until he stepped inside the office. A space that had never felt emptier or lonelier even though all the usual office furnishings were still there. But it was the absence of a certain person that made the space feel bleaker than ever before. Not just absence in the present tense but absence from now through forever.
There was no way, after what happened between them on Wednesday, that she’d ever return. And he couldn’t blame her. It had been his aim, after all.
But her absence was crushing. He didn’t flip the light on since the last thing he wanted was to invite any visitors inside, but as his eyes adjusted and he opened the blinds to allow in the natural light, he could see things as he’d left them. Or rather how Waverley had left them.
Things like the freshly washed walls and the paint samples she’d left lying across the coffee table for his selection, the plant that she’d bought and nurtured on the corner of her desk, the dust-free blinds and light fixtures and the two new landscape prints of the Colorado mountains that she’d framed and hung on the walls. Then there was that ridiculous coffee machine with all the bells and whistles that…sure enough, was sitting on the counter in the kitchen.
That one he’d wished she’d taken. This one thing somehow represented for him more than anything their differences. And his loss.
He had just gone to his office to read through some email and check the messages forwarded to him from his answering service when there was a knock.
He ignored it. They’d give up.
Only the knocking became more persistent.
Muttering under his breath, he headed to the front of the office and looked out through the door.
Oh, hell. It was Poppy and Meg.
No sense in pretending he wasn’t here. His sister would have recognized his car parked in front and known that, lights on or not, he was inside.
Sighing in resignation, he opened the door. “Ladies, can I help you with something?”
“Yeah,” Poppy said, stepping inside. “We’ve been trying to get ahold of Waverley for two days. But she wasn’t here yesterday, and when we stopped by her place, this old lady falling out of a leather bustier told us that she’d packed up and left.”
Packed and left? As in she’d actually left Blue Haven?
It would make sense. She didn’t need to hide away here anymore, working for barely more than minimum wage or living in an apartment building that should have been condemned during the Bush administration. Still, he had to train his voice not to sound as gutted as he felt. “Sorry, I can’t help you. I don’t know where she is.”
Both Poppy’s and Meg’s gazes went from questioning to accusatory. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened, so stop looking like I murdered her and chopped her body into tiny pieces and buried them in the park.”
“Why is Waverley not here? And why don’t you know where she is or at least sound a little worried that she’s gone off the grid so suddenly?”
“Don’t be so melodramatic, Poppy. She’s not off the grid. She just probably went back home to Denver and the life she had before. You’ve seen the news. You know that she’s no longer the pariah the media originally portrayed her to be and all that money she thought was lost is or has been restored.”
“Don’t act so dense, Reynolds,” his sister said. “You know what I mean. You were holding her hand at dinner on Sunday and staring at her like some lovesick adolescent. What happened between you?”
“It just wasn’t going to work out. We’re too different. We want different things.”
Their mouths opened in shock. “You dumped her?” Meg practically shouted at him. That made him blink. Meg was usually so easygoing and nonconfrontational. He didn’t know if he’d ever heard her yell at anyone, least of all him. “What’s wrong with you?”
