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‘I don’t love anyone,’ he said. ‘I’m no good at it.’ Was that supposed to make her feel better? ‘I don’t want this. I told you that.’
She shook her head, the tears choking her. ‘I know you did, Connor.’ And he had, he had told her. And it was her own stupid fault that she hadn’t listened. Or rather, she’d listened with her heart, instead of her head, and she’d got it wrong.
Daisy sighed, suddenly desperately weary, and sick to her heart as well as her stomach.
‘Don’t worry, Connor. I’ll survive. I’ll see you around.’
She turned but he called after her. ‘Daisy, don’t go. Let’s at least talk about this some more.’
Didn’t he know there was nothing else to say?
She waved over her shoulder. ‘I’ll be around, maybe later,’ she said. Knowing full well that she’d be conveniently absent if he came to call. She’d do whatever she had to do to avoid him over the coming weeks—until he lost interest and moved on to his next conquest—and in the meantime she’d try to repair her heart.
As she walked the few short steps to her home, the sound of her suitcase wheels rolling on the pavement matching the click-click of her heels, she felt her stomach pitch—and refused to look back. She had never felt more bitterly ashamed of herself in her life.
Despite all her care over the years, despite all her caution. She’d got caught in the same foolish trap as her mother—of falling in love with the wrong guy, and hoping against all the odds that he might love her back. And he hadn’t.
Connor dropped the suitcases on the floor and slammed the door shut. Well, that hadn’t exactly gone according to plan. And where the hell had she got the stupid idea she loved him? It was insane.
He dumped his keys on the hall table, saw the stack of post, left it where it lay and walked down the hallway.
She’d get over it soon enough. Things had got too hot and heavy over the last fortnight. They’d been living in each other’s pockets, after all. A little while cooling off would be all for the best. And then they could pick up where they’d left off.
But as he entered the open-plan kitchen, the sunlight pouring through the windows and shining off the polished oak, his gut tightened with dread and the sense of being trapped closed over him like a shroud.
What if she wouldn’t come back?
He stared at the bright airy space, the gleaming glass cabinets, and felt as if they were mocking him. He fished the ring out of his pocket, dropped it on the counter top, then gazed out into the garden where he’d first spotted her three long weeks ago.
And for the first time since he’d been a boy, he wanted to pray for something he knew he could never have.
He heaved out a sigh, pushed the ring into a drawer. This was madness. He was just jet-lagged and a little shaken by how devastated she’d looked. But she’d get over it. He’d told her the truth, after all. He didn’t love her. He couldn’t. He’d always sworn he would never fall in love and that would never change. But he’d get her back, because he wanted her and he knew damn well she still wanted him.
But even as he tried to persuade himself there was nothing to worry about he had the niggling feeling that he’d let something irreplaceable slip through his fingers and there would be no getting it back, no matter how hard he tried.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
DAISY stifled her tears as she opened her suitcase and saw all the mementoes she’d saved so carefully sitting on the top. The sweetly tacky tourist photo of her in Connor’s arms atop the Empire State. The ticket stub from her first and no doubt last Broadway show. A napkin from the Rainbow Room. She also held firm as she folded away the cocktail dress and the ball gown and wondered when she’d ever get the chance to wear them again.
Having showered and changed into her work uniform of jeans and a Funky Fashionista T-shirt, she walked to the stall. Buffeted by the tide of tourists flowing through Portobello Market on a sunny Sunday morning, she ignored the ropey feeling in her stomach and the foggy feeling of exhaustion and still refused to let a single tear fall.
She’d been a fool—that was all. She could cope with this, as she’d coped with every other disappointment in her life. Her throat felt raw now, as if a boulder had got jammed down it, but this wasn’t really so terrible. She’d allowed herself to get carried away. When she looked back on this, years from now, she’d see it as a valuable learning experience. Almost certainly.
She sucked in a tremulous breath, returned the wave of a stallholder she knew.
She still had her dream. One day she’d find the right man for her. Connor had never been that man. She’d allowed the stardust and the glamour and the magic of the moment to blind her to the truth. She strolled up the busy thoroughfare, loaded with stalls selling everything from plaintains to paper-chains, crossed her arms over her chest and held in the tearing pain.
She’d get past this, and when she did she’d be able to remember her time with Connor as a dazzlingly exciting and wonderful romantic adventure and nothing more. So a tiny part of her heart would always be lost to him, would always wish that maybe things might have been different, that he might have wanted what she had to offer. But he hadn’t and she’d be a fool to think she could change him. Wasn’t that the mistake her mother had always made?
As she spotted her stall up ahead, the rainbow of cotton dresses and silk scarves she’d made and designed flapping in the breeze, a small smile quivered on her lips. This was her real life. And she loved it. This was what made her different from her mother. She’d sampled the drug that had driven her mother to find love in the wrong places and for two glorious weeks she’d ridden the high. But she could live without it if she had to. Steady, dependable, reliable was what she needed in her life—and she was the only
one who could make that happen.
She stepped up to the stall, a brave smile firmed in place. ‘Hey, got a blouse you can sell me?’
Juno’s head came up. ‘Daisy, you’re back.’ Her best friend dived round the stall, a welcoming grin on her face and her arms open wide. ‘How did it go?’
But as Juno’s arms folded around her, the emotions she’d been holding back so beautifully rose up like a summer storm and burst out of her mouth in a soul-drenching sob.
