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What have I done?
What have I done?
Valentine
I watch her go and wait for her to turn. Just one brief look and it would be enough to have me out of the car, kissing her quicker than she can refuse me again. But she doesn’t.
In fact, more than that, her parting words were clear:‘I don’t love you.’
She’s lying. I know she’s lying. I feel it in my gut. Shehasto be.
But I won’t beg. I’ve done enough trying to convince her. The ball’s in her court and that’s where it will stay.
As I drive away though, I can’t ignore the crushing weight settling in my gut.
Freedom versus love.
I know which one I choose, but Olivia—wild, fun, carefree Olivia...
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Olivia
VALENTINEKEEPSHISWORD. He hands over to Alan and I don’t see him again. It’s been two weeks and not a word.
Not that I expected one. Not after all I said.
But, Christ, I miss him.
I can’t focus. I can’t find joy in anything. I’ve given up my hunt for a new car as speaking to Harry only reminds me of Valentine and our track day. The swing from fun, high-octane fun, to...to this. Emptiness. I feel as though there’s a gaping hole inside that nothing can fill.
And as I stand before my sister’s front door, a bottle of red in hand, and hear the chatter on the other side, the shouts from the children, even more shouts from Fee as she calls after them, a bittersweet smile lifts my lips. At least I’m not eating alone this afternoon, in my empty house that feels far too big and far too hollow with just me in it now.
The door swings open. ‘What the hell are you doing just standing there, Liv? Get in here and help me organise this rabble before I end up cremating the roast.’
My sister is already striding down the corridor back into the kitchen and I close the front door.
‘Hey, Liv.’ Pete, her husband, walks up to me and I hand him the bottle, kiss his cheek.
‘Hi, Aunty Liv!’ Billy, my four-year-old nephew, bounds up to me and grabs my leg for a hug before frowning up at his father. ‘Daddy! Lucy keeps telling me to shut up.’
‘Lucy, stop telling your brother to shut up!’ he calls out towards the living room. ‘And will you all come and say hi to your aunt Liv.’
‘Hi, Aunt Liv!’ comes the chorused reply, minus the bodies.
Pete gives me an apologetic grimace. ‘You sure you want to eat in this mad house.’
I laugh as Billy races off again, his short blonde curls bobbing. ‘Positive.’
‘Can’t say I’m not glad to see you. Fee’s going out of her mind for some adult company. Apparently, I’m just not good enough.’
‘You’re plenty good enough, hubby darling,’ comes her singsong retort from the kitchen. ‘But I need words with my sly big sis.’
I frown at Pete and he simply shrugs. ‘Damned if I know, but I’ll sort you both drinks and get the kids setting the table. That ought to take her stressometer down a notch or two.’
‘I heard that,’ Fee calls over her shoulder as we enter the kitchen. Steam fills the air as several pans bubble on the stove, and the smell is divine.
‘You were meant to, my love.’ Pete walks up to her, grips her by the hips and plants a kiss on her cheek. The gesture is so small but so sweet, and the pang in my chest returns. The same sensation I’ve had over and over these past two weeks, every time I see a couple holding hands, talking intimately over a dinner table, taking a walk...
