AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It was only when the plane took off that he felt the slightest niggle of doubt.
You’re running, Alessio.Not from himself this time, but from the mess he’d unwittingly made.
Unwittingly? Hardly.
Charlotte had told him from the outset why the relationship was complicated for her. He’d ignored that. He’d wanted her, so he’d made sure it happened.
And what about the wreckage of her life now? Her friendship with Caleb, a man who adored her, and Dash, and was an important part of their lives? Had Alessio destroyed that?
He closed his eyes as the plane pitched a little in the wintry weather, as if he could so easily blank his thoughts. But they pursued him relentlessly, the blame, the self-recriminations, the accusations, that he’d taken what he wanted from Charlotte, what suited him, what made him feel better during a week he’d have preferred to avoid, and then left her to clean up the mess, just as she’d said.
That would undoubtedly be easier without him around, but at the same time, shouldn’t he have at least tried? To explain to Caleb, to his mother, to tell them…
Alessio’s eyes flew open, clearly showing his frustration.
What could he possibly say to explain any of it? He’d suspected Caleb’s feelings for Charlotte from the very beginning, and even without that, he’d known they were friends, that sleeping with Charlotte would put her in the middle of their decades-old dislike. He’d known it would make her work life difficult. But he hadn’t cared. Not enough to do the right thing and walk away.
It never felt as though he could, though.
It doesn’t mean anything.
Something like nausea rose in his chest. A thousand times with dozens of women, Alessio had thought exactly that. Even with Lucinda, who he’d dated for three months, and respected the hell out of, he’d been comfortable and confident in their relationship because he’d known, at every step of the way, that it didn’t mean anything to him. And, he’d hoped, to her, but he’d been wrong about that.
When she’d said it didn’t mean anything, Charlotte had only been verbalising what they’d agreed to, she’d simply explained their agreement, but it had left Alessio with the strangest feeling, and he hadn’t been able to shake it all afternoon.
It was like he’d stepped off a six-month cruise and didn’t have his land legs yet. He was wobbly and unclear.
He stared out of the window, looking at the bleak, dark sky.
It didn’t matter. He’d be home soon, and then everything would start to make sense. He’d feel like himself again.
But even the idea of home was complicated by the threat of memories of Charlotte, of the single perfect night they’d spent there, of his desire for her—not just physically, but in every sense.
He sat bolt upright in the seat, his heart going into overdrive.
You’re not right for her.
His mother had said that and, in that moment, Alessio had accepted it as fact. But what did his mother really know about him? Their relationship had fractured long ago, and he’d worked very hard to keep his true self separate from her. He’d shown her only one facet of his personality, for many, many years. It was Charlotte who knew him best of all. Charlotte who he’d let in—the first person in his adult life, really.
And you mean nothing to her.
But there was something jarring about those words. About the sentiment. It took leaving England to finally obtain the clarity he needed, the birds eye view of their situation to understand it clearly.
She’d said it meant nothing but that was a lie.
He only had to remember the moments they’d shared, the way being with her had changed something fundamental inside of him, to know that their relationship had meant something. More than something.
It meant everything.
Somehow, without his consent or awareness, in a shorter space of time than he would have thought possible, Charlotte had become as vital to Alessio as the air he breathed. She was his reason: for being, for smiling, for thinking, for living. She had become a part of him, the very best part, and he could no longer ignore that.
Standing with a muffled oath, cursing his stupidity and slowness to understand why he’d felt so different since meeting Charlotte, he moved towards the cockpit, his brain working at lightning speed now, as everything fell into place, and he saw the way forward—the only way forward.
What bothered him wasn’t that his mother had implied he didn’t deserve Charlotte. It was that in leaving like this, he was proving her right.
Alessio was ready to stop running. At least, to stop running in the wrong direction. For the first time in his life, Alessio was prepared to risk everything, for love.
The Cotswolds countrysidewas blanketed in white, like something out of a fairytale, so he remembered flashes of past conversations with Charlotte, reminding him how often he’d disavowed a belief in any such thing. The ground was white everywhere, so as his car cut through the country roads, he saw only clean slates and fresh starts, the newness of everything, the hope he held, deep in his heart, that such things were possible.
