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Pulling the blanket from its wrapper, I drape it over her legs to stop her from getting cold and slide my hand back into hers, watching her like a creep.
By the time we touch down on English soil, she’s almost entirely shut down.
The happy girl from the beach who held me while I confessed everything I went through with Demi is long gone. Instead, the woman whose hand I’m insisting on holding in mine is the cold, detached one who threw me out of her hospital room.
I’m trying to convince myself that it’s just being back here that has her like this, but it’s more than that. I know it’s me.
We grab our bags and then go in search of my car, which is harder than I was hoping for seeing as I didn’t actually make a note of where I left it.
“Did you want to go and get some food or…” I trail off. I’m not ready to let her go yet, especially not when she’s in this mood.
She might never admit it, but right now she’s vulnerable, and if that fuck is waiting for her…
“Just take me home,” she says, her voice hollow, void of any kind of emotion.
“O-okay.”
The drive across the city is relatively quick, and long before I’m ready, we’re pulling up in front of her house.
Her Porsche is sitting there waiting for her, and her eyes light up when she sees her baby.
I can’t help but smile at her excitement. I just wish it had something to do with me, not a fucking car.
She’s taken her seat belt off before I’ve even brought the car to a stop.
“Wait,” I say as her fingers wrap around the handle, ready to make a quick escape.
She pauses, but she doesn’t look back at me.
“We’re done, Seb. Whatever that was in Rosewood… it’s over.”
“W-what?” I stutter. Part of me saw it coming, but I didn’t want to believe it. That she could just cast me aside like the past few days meant nothing.
“You heard me.”
“No, wait,” I cry, sounding way more pathetic than I was intending as she pushes the door open and climbs from the car.
Before I can get there, she has the boot open and her bags in her hands.
“Let me.” I reach for her case—she probably shouldn’t be lifting it—but she drags it from my car before I even get a chance to take it from her.
“No,” she says firmly, this time holding my eyes to add to her sincerity. “We’re done. You’ve had your fun. You chased me, you got me back. Now, we’re over.”
A laugh of disbelief bubbles up my throat.
“You don’t mean that,” I say as she rushes past me toward the front door.
“Don’t I?”
She digs around in her bag before pulling a key out and unlocking the door.
She turns back to me. My steps falter a few feet away from her as my heart thunders in my chest and my teeth grind in frustration.
She’s lying. I know she is.
Everything these past few days… it wasn’t fake. She couldn’t have faked all of that. She just couldn’t.
“Let me carry your bag in at least.”
Anger flashes in her eyes.
“I don’t need you to protect me, Seb. I don’t need you at all.”
My lips part to tell her that she’s lying, but before I manage to get a word out, she slams the door in my face.
