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Angie clings to me tightly, but she pushes me away long before I’m ready. Reluctantly, I let her move away from the wall and she reaches up, cupping my cheek with her hand, her thumb stroking over my lips.
“Thank you for a wonderful vacation, Tim,” she whispers. “I’ll never forget it.”
She turns and walks away from me. Shit.
I trail her out, standing behind everyone else, my hands shoved into my pockets as Angie climbs into the car. As it drives away, it suddenly feels like I can’t breathe. By the time the car reaches the end of the drive, turning out onto the road, I want to chase after it, drag Angie from the car and demand that she stay here. That she stay with me.
I knew I had developed some sort of feelings for her. But standing here like I have lungs filled with cement, I realize that, idiot that I am, I was wrong. Turns out you don’t always know when you’re in love. Until you do. Because I’m in love with Angie, and she’s just driven out of my life. And I let her go without telling her, because I didn’t realize it until it was too fucking late.
David is calling out to me for one last X-Box game, but I ignore him, striding around the side of the Manor until I’m at the stables. I wave aside the groom as I saddle Jasper, mounting and tearing out of there like I can somehow catch up with Angie and get her back. Except that I can’t, so I head in the opposite direction, trying to blow some air back into my lungs. Trying to feel anything other than fucking miserable.
Angela
Bill is reading reports on his iPad the entire trip to London. He doesn’t speak to me, and he doesn’t look up. Not even when a few sniffles escape me. I’m grateful that he’s giving me some privacy because I was right. I drove away from Tim and my heart broke. I know this was supposed to be a fun fling, but for me at least, it was so much more than that. And I wouldn’t have changed a single thing I did or felt.
A box of Kleenex appears in my lap, but Bill is still studiously reading his iPad, so I turn as best I can to the window and silently cry until we are almost in London. Bill checks us into a suite in London, even though we’re only here until early afternoon. I head to the second bedroom to shower, use makeup to hide the evidence of my ugly crying, and dress in my nicest cocktail dress.
I was so excited about this musical, and now I only want to be on a plane back to Chicago. Every second that I’m still here in the UK I’m reminded that Tim is still here too. So close and a million miles away.
Still, I force a smile and take Bill’s offered arm as he escorts me down to the car to take us to the theater. Surprisingly, for an hour and a half, I enjoy the show and don’t mope over Tim. Then we’re back at the hotel to quickly change before heading for the airport.
Bill’s private jet is waiting for us and we’re airborne and actually, it’s a million times worse to be actually flying away from Tim. Bill deliberately sits at the other end of the plane to me to give me more privacy. It’s for the best. I curl up in my seat and cry for most of the flight. Even the flight attendant stays away from me apart from bringing me more Kleenex and bottles of water.
I suppose the one upside of all this crying is that hopefully, by the time that we’ve landed in Chicago, I will have no more tears to cry over Timothy Brooks Westerhaven. It’s a pity that is probably wishful thinking.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Timothy
“Timmy, this is Ginny! She was in a Calvin Klein underwear campaign.”
Blinking, I turn to where David and Ryan are presenting a scantily clad woman for my perusal. This is the fifth woman tonight. David flew back to San Diego with me. He insisted he wanted to go out with Ryan and me in LA for New Years Eve, and that I better bring my A game.
So far, I’m disappointing them both. I have joined the conversation, but I don’t want to be here. I can’t get Angie out of my head. They are parading these women in front of me, but why would I want them when I’m consumed by memories of Angie?
Ryan ushers Gina into the booth beside me, and she gets all up in my business, her hand landing on my thigh. I remember stroking Angie’s thigh under the table and slide out of the booth, knocking David out of the way as he makes to sit.
“Bathroom break?”
I flash David and Ryan a tight smile, ignoring Georgia completely.
“Sorry, boys. I’m turning in for the night. I’m not feeling it.”
Two identical shocked looks meet my eyes, but I shrug, clapping them on the shoulder as I turn away.
“But it’s almost midnight, Timmy!” Ryan howls. David grabs at my arm, but I slip away, heading downstairs, battling through the partygoers until I’m outside.
There are taxis lined up around the block – waiting for the New Year to ring in before getting a fare. Except for lucky number one. I slide in, and he turns to me. I rattle off Ryan’s address, sinking back into the shiny pleather seat, my eyes closing as we drive away from the beach bar.
The taxi TV blares halfway through the journey. New Year. Happy New Year, Angie. I hope you’re not out with some guy’s tongue stuck down your throat. Bile rises in my stomach at the very idea.
To distract myself from the stomach-churning idea, I dig out my phone. Maybe it’s pathetic, but I Google image search Uncle Bill. I ignore the red carpet pictures – she won’t be in those – instead focusing on ones where he is checking into hotels. Finally, I hit the jackpot.
Zooming in over Uncle Bill’s shoulder, I have a closeup of Angie’s face. It’s a little blurry, but it will have to do. Screenshotting it, I make it my phone background. How the fuck did I spend five weeks with the woman, three of them sleeping with her, and never get a single picture? Because I’m a fucking idiot. That’s how.
The taxi pulls up in front of Ryan’s Hollywood Hills mansion. I tip generously, sliding out and punching in the keycode to let me inside. The spectacular views of LA lit up before me don’t capture my attention for possibly the first time.
I make my way to the top level, dropping into bed and staring at Angie’s face. I should never have fucking let her leave Kent without me. But it’s too late. I really am a fucking idiot.
