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‘I do love you,’ she admits softly. ‘But I can’t sleep with you.’
‘That’s not love, then.’
She responds with a calmness that is somehow terrify
ing. ‘Believe me, Noah, it is. If I loved you less, I’d sleep with you now, but we both know it’s just letting you run from what you really need to sort out. I won’t be a party to your denial any longer. I never should have been.’
‘You’re saying you regret this? What we did?’
She bites down on her lip, stares at me, and then she nods. ‘Yes, Noah. I regret it. But we can’t change the past. You and I both know that through personal experience.’
Of all the things we’ve said and done to each other these last few weeks, her admission now is what breaks me apart fully. Her desire to undo everything we’ve shared, her fervent wish to go back in time and not sleep with me. Maybe to not even meet me.
I stare at her for a long minute and then turn away.
‘I was wrong to come. Forget I was here.’
‘Noah—’ she follows me ‘—you can’t go home like this. Have a coffee...’
‘I don’t want a fucking coffee.’
I slam the door behind me and don’t look back.
* * *
‘You said this was urgent?’
God, he is so like Noah my heart stutters in my chest. I know they’re not related by blood, yet there is something in them that is instantly familiar. In looks, they are similar, both bigger than the average man, strong-looking, with a raw sort of animalism tangible. Gabe Arantini is wearing a suit, though, and a top-quality watch. He looks every bit the expensive banker, and he speaks with an accent that is tinged with Italian and Australian.
He’s looking at me with barely concealed impatience, and I know it’s impatience to hear what I have to say, not to be away from me. Because he cares about Noah. And I am happy—so happy Noah has someone in his life who will fly internationally on the day after Christmas because a woman he’s never met called him.
‘Yes. Please, take a seat.’
‘I’m fine standing.’
So like Noah, a tired smile slides across my face. ‘As you wish. This won’t take long.’
My penance is the smallest part of my concerns. Confessing to what I did weighs on me like a ton of bricks, yet it is just the beginning of what I need to tell Gabe.
‘I don’t want to talk about what Noah has told me. I consider that confidential.’
Gabe crosses his arms over his chest, staring at me as if he can see into my mind with just that look. ‘But I can imagine.’
‘Yes. You know him better than anyone.’ It hurts to admit that. I thought I knew him, but if I did, then I wouldn’t have pushed him so hard he’d run away. I wouldn’t have hurt him like I did. ‘Gabe,’ I say slowly, knowing perhaps I should employ formality, refer to him as Mr Arantini, but I can’t. This man I have heard so much about I now feel I know him too.
‘Sì?’
He’s worried. I must do this better. Faster.
‘There’s no easy way to say this.’ I stand up, needing to be more on a level with the handsome tycoon. ‘Noah and I...became involved. Personally involved.’
He stares at me for a long moment, angry colour slashing his cheeks. ‘You’re a psychologist,’ he snaps, gesturing to the wall that is adorned with my degrees and awards.
‘I know.’ I shake my head with frustration, knowing there’s no point explaining the shade of grey that our relationship inhabited, knowing that it won’t matter to Gabe that I’d outright refused to see Noah as a patient, just so I could sleep with him. That’s a pretty unprofessional thing to do anyway. ‘It shouldn’t have happened.’
‘You think?’ His sarcasm is scathing. ‘I sent him to you because you help people! People like him! You were supposed to talk to him, not go to his bed.’
It strikes the error of my decision into my heart, more firmly than before. Because he’s right. I chose my own sexual satisfaction over Noah’s welfare. I’m so ashamed. ‘I know, believe me, how much I’ve messed up. I know how much I’ve let him down.’
