AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter 20
Melanie walked slowly around the house, her fingers pressed to her lips in amazement. The smell of fresh paint and glue burned her nostrils. One day and one night was all it had taken for the army of volunteers to repair the damage. They had come in a steady stream, working in shifts. The house was complete. Finally, she had done something she could be proud of.
She glanced over at the porch, where a small heap of suitcases and boxes waited. Their belongings were certainly more numerous than they had been when they’d arrived: Melanie had acquired a whole new wardrobe courtesy the cantankerous owner of the Spa de Tunisie, and Rhys had been bombarded with gifts by Minions and other residents of Villeneuve.
She was going to miss this place.
Her taxi was idling nearby, and the driver’s expressionless, implacable patience made Melanie smile. An American cab driver would have been honking and yelling by now. He’d been waiting for several minutes while she took her last round of the house, taking her final look at the place where she had found a glimmer of happiness—and then lost it.
She remembered the look on Rhys’s face when she’d told them they were leaving and seeing it again in her mind made her heart crack once more. Poor kid: he’d found such confidence in himself here. He had fit right in; she’d even heard him toss out a couple of French phrases with the volunteers yesterday. She felt almost criminal taking him back to the monotony of their lives but reminded herself that they’d both known it was only for a short time. They’d come to visit, not to stay.
At least she had discovered one thing about herself: she had the strength to start her own design business when she got home. No more waitressing for her. Thanks to Queenie Abara, the opportunity she had missed had found her again.
She nodded at the cab driver, who got out and began stowing their luggage into the spacious trunk, and called for Rhys once more. He had already told Zanifa a tearful goodbye and was now at the bottom of his herb garden, saying goodbye to each sprig and leaf.
You didn’t have a choice,she reminded herself. You needed to do this. Not only was her job over—well, technically she’d quit hours before completing it—but there was nothing else for her here. Certainly not Corbin.
Oh, God, she’d been such an idiot. Falling in love so hard and so fast with those deep brown eyes and wide, easy smile. Allowing herself to be suckered in by those sweet kisses and gentle hands. He was a good man; she knew that deep in her heart. In another dimension, they could have been soulmates. But she wasn’t what he wanted or needed. She had to accept that.
Unconsciously placing her hand over her heart, which had begun to ache with the thought of what could have been, she begged the driver, “Please, can you hurry?” The faster they got out of here, the quicker the healing process could begin. But she knew she was just fooling herself. Not even an ocean between them would erase her longing for Corbin, to whom she hadn’t even dared say goodbye. Leaving like this was tearing her apart but imagine how much worse it would have been if she’d said goodbye face to face!
He was the one who didn’t want you,she reminded herself. Remember that.
Pulse pounding as if she was breaking out of jail, she trotted towards the herb garden, calling for her son. A tingle began to rise in her, spilling out and running down her arms and legs. She was assaulted by a tremendous sense of urgency. They had to leave—now. “Rhys!”
She spotted him crouched between the cilantro and the mint, and he leaped guiltily when he saw her, shoving his phone into his pockets and blushing madly. All of her mommy-instincts warned her that this kid was up to no good, but rather than challenge him now, she decided to postpone the interrogation until they were safely on the way to the airport.
“Come, let’s get going.”
He looked panicked. “Not yet! Five minutes!”
“You’ve already said goodbye to the herbs,” she said impatiently.
“But I haven’t said it to the…uh…topiary!”
“Rhys!” she began, slipping into foot-tapping parent mode, but a ruckus at the foot of the driveway distracted them both. There was a squeal of brakes as Corbin’s truck skated up, skewing sideways until it blocked the exit. Hugo, Camus, and Simone barreled out as soon as the door was opened, and bolted for Rhys, who was grinning at Corbin. The two males gave each other a virtual fist-bump, letting Melanie know immediately what had happened. Rhys had called Corbin and told him they were leaving.
And that ticked her off. She stomped over to Corbin, who was looking pleased with the little roadblock he had set up. “Move,” she demanded.
“No.”
“You have to get out of the way!” She gestured at the taxi. “My son and I have a flight to catch.”
“Your son doesn’t want to leave.”
“That’s not your call,” she snapped.
By now, the driver was there too, no longer patient, but now quite irritated. He began speaking rapidly to Corbin, obviously demanding that he move. As the tone of the conversation escalated, Melanie was almost afraid that it would turn into an argument. But after a minute or two of the driver’s yelling and Corbin’s implacable responses, the cabbie gave Melanie his sauciest grin and almost bowed to her as he backed away. He clambered back into the taxi and feigned a look of disinterest.
“What did you tell him?” she demanded.
“That I didn’t want you to leave, either.” The cheeky grin faded and was replaced by an expression Melanie had never seen before. He reached for her hand, and this time, she didn’t yank it away. “What I said to you in Florence was cruel, and I am sorry. But even more, it was stupid. I was too deeply buried in my pain to notice that I had found a way out of it. I was too busy beating myself up, punishing myself over and over, to see that God had forgiven me, even if I hadn’t forgiven myself. He offered me a second chance at happiness, just as Queenie offered you.”
Her lips parted as she tried to find words, but none came to her.
He stepped forward, pulling her to him and locking his arms around her. “Please stay, at least a little longer. Give me a chance to prove myself. Give me some time to touch your heart—”
“You’ve already touched it,” she found herself admitting. Her voice was muffled against his shirt.
