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She’d give him space. She wouldn’t hound him. He could do what he wanted.
With the television reception back, she found programs for Frederick and the aunts to watch with her that evening, even as they talked about what they’d do for New Year’s Eve, and resolutions for the New Year. They discussed how Mr. Trimble would have the rest of the Langley Park roads cleared tomorrow and how much they’d enjoyed their white Christmas, but now it was time to go home. They discussed their morning departures, with the change in plans being that Trimble was going to take Uncle Frederick with him to inspect his house, because Frederick knew his home better than anyone else.
“When is your flight?” Emma asked Cara.
“It’s in the afternoon. I’ll fly to Heathrow and connect there.”
“Oh, it’s a madhouse from what I saw on the news,” Dorothy said. “I don’t envy you that.”
“I’ll have already checked my luggage through. It shouldn’t be as bad for me, since I’m connecting, rather than trying to check in there.”
“That makes me feel better,” Dorothy said. “But, poor thing, you’ll be exhausted when you get home.”
“She’s young,” Frederick answered. “She’ll be fine.”
Cara nodded, forcing a smile, hiding how much she hurt. “That’s right. I’m tough.”
Dorothy didn’t look convinced, and then she saw the look Dorothy and Emma exchanged.
They knew. They were aware something was wrong with Alec and Cara. Cara didn’t want anyone feeling bad for her, though. She wasn’t going to fall apart, not here, not in front of any of them. “I do think I’ll turn in,” she said, faking a yawn. “I have to pack, too.”
“Do you want me to talk to Alec?” Dorothy whispered in her ear as Cara hugged her good night.
Hot tears pricked Cara’s eyes and she gave Dorothy a squeeze. “No. He’s… he’s better off being left alone. He knows what he’s doing.”
Dorothy drew back and searched Cara’s face. “I don’t think he does.”
Cara was not going to cry. She wasn’t going to do that here. “He’s allowed to change his mind.” She drew a raw breath. “It’s okay.”
“He’s scared. He’s had a lot of losses.”
True enough, but at this point, Cara had to protect herself, and wasn’t it just yesterday that she’d learned that Alec had ended things abruptly with Elizabeth? It seemed he had a history of abrupt breakups and being on the receiving end felt terrible.
She didn’t want to go to bed feeling so heartsick, though. She needed to talk to him, needed to hear what he was thinking. But searching the house, she still couldn’t find him, or the dogs, which meant they were probably out for a walk, or just hiding somewhere from her. Either way, she needed to stop torturing herself and just go to bed.
In her room, she told herself not to be hurt. She told herself that no promises had been made. It had been a holiday romance, that was all it was, but the words weren’t much comfort, not when her heart hurt.
She didn’t mean to fall for him. She hadn’t come to England to fall in love. It just happened. Maybe the problem was that she told him, but that was just so her. When she was happy, she just couldn’t keep it in. She’d never been the cool girl. She didn’t know how to be mysterious or play games.
But it was okay. She was okay, and she’d be heading home tomorrow evening. In just twenty-four hours she’d be back with her family and they loved her. They knew who she was, good and bad, and they and loved her anyway.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the day, trying to forget how empty and hollow she felt, but her brain wouldn’t turn off. She couldn’t stop thinking, couldn’t stop feeling.
If only they hadn’t kissed. He kissed too well, his kisses made her feel so much that she allowed herself to be swept up in a fantasy, caught up in a fairy tale where the ordinary girl gets the prince.
But none of it was real.
She wasn’t a little girl. She knew holiday romances were notoriously dramatic and unpredictable. She couldn’t let a few kisses turn her head. Or break her heart. She’d survived the breakup with Chet. She’d survive a four—five—day romance with Alec. Now she just needed to keep it together until she left tomorrow.
*
The next morningCara held onto her smile as she waved Emma and Dorothy off. She’d hugged them both goodbye, but Dorothy had held on to Cara extra-long, even whispering in her ear, “I hope to see you next Christmas.”
Cara just gave her another squeeze before walking her to the car. She then stood in the driveway and waved and smiled until they disappeared from view.
Mr. Trimble had already departed with Uncle Frederick, but Frederick had asked for her address and phone before he’d gone, saying it would be nice if they could keep in touch. Cara’s eyes had watered and she’d told him she’d love that.
Now it was just Alec and Cara—well, not exactly just the two of them as Mrs. Johnson was back, bustling about in the kitchen, trying to assess what had happened while she was gone, and Mrs. Booth was scheduled to return in the next half hour, and Alec had said he would be going to meet her train and driveher home. But right now, there was a window for Cara and Alec to speak, and even if he didn’t want a conversation with her, he owed her a conversation. He owed her an explanation. She needed to hear from him. She needed to understand why everything had changed.
