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Overnight, she’d come to realize just how much she’d hoped David Trent wanted more from her than a hot, sexy fling. She had actually come to hope that he wanted to be in their lives more permanently.
His suitcase, packed and sealed, by the door, mocked that notion stronger than anything else could.
He was leaving.
They were over.
A noise from the kitchen caught her attention and she turned, slowly, her face pale and her eyes dark rimmed.
“Good morning,” he said, wary, watchful, unaccustomed to the way his stomach contracted painfully at the sight of her. She was a mess. And he was the reason. He had done that to her. He would never forgive himself for hurting her.
He ached to take her into his arms, and kiss away the sadness. But what would it achieve? He couldn’t tell her who he really was, and he couldn’t keep living this lie, either. In a voice he barely recognized for its cold formality, he heard himself say, “I’m planning to get off early. I thought I’d beat the traffic back.”
Her heart kerthumped so painfully she thought she might be having a heart attack. She nodded, jerkily. “Ok.” She sounded so feeble! She cleared her throat and tried again. “The roads will be slippery after the storm last night. Drive carefully.”
His expression didn’t change.
“I just need to fix up my bill.”
“Oh, right.” She hooked her thumbs into her jeans. “It hardly feels fair to charge you for the room. After all, you barely used it.”
It was a stupid attempt at a joke and as soon as she’d said it, she flushed with embarrassment. Why remind him of their relationship when he was about to walk away without a backwards glance? He couldn’t wait to be rid of her. He wasn’t even attempting to prolong their time together.
She watched as he smiled, but it was a smile of disinterest. Embarrassment even. Oh, it was excruciating. He was mentally already on the road to London. If Katie had been looking in a mirror she would have seen the way her face blanched, as though she’d seen a ghost. She hadn’t seen a ghost though, she’d been forced to confront reality head on, and she didn’t much like what she saw.
“How would you like to pay?” She asked bleakly.
“Credit card.”
“Fine. Excuse me a moment. I’ll go and get the thing-o.”
When she emerged a couple of minutes later with a printed receipt and a portable eftpos machine, she looked much more in control of her emotions. She even flashed him an over-bright smile as she handed the device to him, careful not to let their fingers connect.
“Just swipe your card,” she said automatically.
He ran his black Amex through, realizing as he did so that he should have used a different payment method. She wasn’t looking at his card though. “Pin or sign?”
“Pin.”
She turned away as he inputted his four digit code and waited for it to process through.
“Well,” she said once the receipt had printed and she’d handed it to him, ignoring the way her stomach rolled as she felt the warmth of his palm. “Thanks for… everything.”
“That’s it, then.” He wasn’t asking her. He wasn’t asking himself. He was making an idiotic observation because he was finding it impossibly difficult to tear himself away. Hadn’t he used the analogy of a Band-Aid only the day before? Yes. He had to do this, and do it quickly.
“I hope you find someone, Katie, who can make you happy.” His smile was wan, his heart heavy. “Someone who wants to tell you all their secrets.”
“And thinks mine are worth knowing,” she responded acidly, to hide the way his words had cleaved her soul in two.
He nodded his head in assent. There was no sense contradicting what he’d said the night before, not now that he was practically out the door.
“You’re a great woman, Katie. You should be happy.”
I was happy! I was happy before you came stomping into my perfectly ordered world and ruined everything! “You too, David.”
As goodbyes went, it was all so hurtfully civilized. His kiss on her cheek was chaste, professional. Impersonal.
She watched as he walked towards the front door, scooped up his suitcase as though it weighed no more than a feather, and walked out of her life, for good.
