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And finally, from Honey Pie. His scalp crawled.
Have you left Perth yet??
Another.
I need to know
Ping.
Have to plan
Ping.
When to come back to Sydney.
Ping.
Pretty please. babe.
Ping.
Hurry up and put the apartment on the market.
Why did Leonie always break what she had to say into tiny incremental messages? Like she was determined to keep him hooked on the end of a line.
Suddenly his nerves felt like a chain reeling off a bicycle cog. Hell! He was a fucking idiot, wasn’t he? Reality was going to hit big time when they reached Sydney—just a few days away now. How could he take Felicity back to the apartment he’d shared with Leonie? That was all wrong… And this… this crazy feeling was a mirage, it was too seductive. It couldn’t,wouldn’tlast. And with Leonie making plans to fly back to Sydney at some stage…
Oh Christ. He rubbed his hands over his face and groaned. Started to pace.
Ten steps, turn to the left…
What was he thinking? That he could just wallow in this blissful bubble forever? As if it wouldn’t have to end?
Maybe badly? Messily?
One… two… three.
Turn to the right. Ten steps…
He could feel his system going onto auto-pilot. Just like the night Mum died. You simply shut the feelings down. Sank them into the abyss. Until the storm passed, and everything was ordered again.
One…two… three.
Which it would… it would all pass, if he remained calm and rational and made sure he didn’t get sucked under, give in to this… this…Fuck.Yep. Okay. He could do this.
He sank a deep breath. Stopped. Checked in. Felt…nothing.
Smoothing his features, he waited until he was sure; sure he could stop counting, stopfeeling,then he walked back to Felicity. She’d finished her fish and chips and was scrolling on her phone, a relaxed smile on her face.
She looked up, still smiling. “I’ve just sent the photos of us to Evie.”
She turned her phone screen towards him, showing him the picture they’d taken together at the beach at Cape Le Grand. It reminded him of the photo strips you used to get in those little curtained booths then stuck on the fridge to prove what a happy couple you were.
Oliver’s gut roiled. He ignored it. Slapped a smile on his face.
They were like that snapshot, a sweet moment in time. He could acknowledge the pleasure they’d shared, sure he could.
But he couldn’t let her believe it was more than that.
He made a noncommittal sound. “Probably time we headed back. It’s a long drive to Adelaide tomorrow, a good seven hours.”
“Couldn’t we stay here a day or so longer? Streaky Bay is such a cute town.”
Oliver shook his head, folded his heart neatly and put it back in its box. Turned the key. “I’m sorry. I have to move a bit faster. I’ve had a whole string of commitments come in and my publisher is baying at my heels to see more of my book.”
She looked at him shrewdly, nibbling on her lip. “Is that all?”
“Yes,” he said, turning back in the direction of their chalet and bracing his shoulders against the sudden ocean breeze. “That’s all.”
