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“Right.”
There was an awkward moment where neither man knew what to say, then Ryan said, “I’ll talk to you soon, then. And happy birthday.”
“Yeah, okay, thanks. Bye.”
Ryan went out and got in his car, quickly driving off, avoiding the off chance that Georgie might come outside. Because he knew if he saw her, there was every chance he’d beg. And the least he could do was leave Blessed Inlet with his dignity intact if nothing else.
* * *
Georgie wasn’t exactly sure what time the interview was scheduled for, or how long Ryan would be at the center, so she played it safe by staying inside all morning. She needed to get a few last-minute supplies from the supermarket, but couldn’t risk running into him. If she saw him, she didn’t doubt that she’d throw herself at his feet and beg his forgiveness. It had been a hellish twenty-four hours. She already missed him terribly. Ached to feel his arms around her. And he hadn’t even left Blessed Inlet yet. How the hell was she going to get through the next few days, months, years, the rest of her life? God, her heart hurt. Not much of a birthday, she admitted to herself. But still, she was trying to put a brave face on it. She’d made all the right responses when Brandon had brought her birthday present early that morning. A hand carved wooden garden bench he’d commissioned from William. He’d laughed when she showed him the photo of the desk she’d asked William to make for his new office.
Because she hadn’t told him about Ryan, he’d gone on and on and on about the clinic, the interview, what they expected from the practice manager, when they would take their first patients.
Then he’d left her alone and she’d thrown herself into cooking. She’d seriously overdone it, made so much more than they would be able to eat. But the alternative was sitting still and she couldn’t do that. So she sliced, chopped, fried and baked. All morning and into the afternoon.
“George.”
Georgie nearly jumped out of her skin. Brandon had let himself in and was standing at the kitchen door. “Oh, hi. You scared the life out of me.”
“What are you doing?”
“Cooking for our birthday. I told you.” There was a note in Brandon’s voice that told Georgie that wasn’t what he meant, but she was not interested in what he did mean, so she deflected.
“So…you and Ryan huh?” He wasn’t going to be deflected.
“There is no me and Ryan.” She turned back to breaking eggs into a mixing bowl. Not that she really needed to cook anymore. But she couldn’t stop, because stopping meant thinking. Feeling. Hurting
“Apparently.”
“There never was, really. It was just a casual fling.”
“Bullshit. That’s fucking bullshit and you know it.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Tell you that you’re making the biggest mistake of your life? That you’re throwing away the perfect relationship, the chance at a lifetime of happiness with a guy who adores you? That you’re a fucking bonehead?”
“He’s better off!”
“He doesn’t seem to think so! And who are you to decide that for him? I know you. You’ve told yourself some stupid story to convince yourself that this can’t happen.”
“You don’t know anything about it.”
“You’re right. I have no idea why you’re doing this. To yourself. And to Ryan. But he’s leaving, George. Today. And he won’t be coming back.” When she didn’t say anything, he said, “I just thought you’d like to know. So maybe you can at least have the grace to say goodbye to him.”
“I don’t need you to tell me how to run my relationships, thank you very much.”
“I’m not sure that’s true.”
“Fuck off.”
“Yeah, I think I will.” He went out then, leaving Georgie alone. She rested her palms flat on the kitchen bench, staring sightlessly out the window. The least she could do was say goodbye to Ryan. Lay her eyes on him one last time. Pushing away from the counter, she ignored her shaking legs as she moved through her house and out the door. Her heart hammered painfully as she took the short drive to the Lighthouse, saw Ryan’s car. This was it. The last goodbye. Her throat closed, clogged with tears, so she stayed in the car for a long moment, drawing in deep breaths. Then she resolutely pushed her door open and got out. Her legs were still shaky as she walked down the track and up the steps to Ryan’s door. He was standing at the bed, his back to her, packing his suitcase. He turned at her knock on the glass and Georgie didn’t fail to notice the instant shuttering of his expression. It hurt. To see him guarded against her when he had always been so open. He gestured for her to open the door so she did, stepping inside.
“Bran said you were heading off.”
“Aye. I was coming to see you before I left.”
“I wish you weren’t going.” The words tumbled from her lips without thought. Pushed out by her screaming heart.
