‘I can’t stay here.’ You’re all around me.
‘Then do me a favour and house-sit for a while. It’s always safer when someone’s living in a place. And for God’s sake stop telling me you can’t. I know you can, and it’s really not a word I want to hear right now.’ Jaw tight, he slammed the bag’s lid down, wrenched the zip closed.
He looked at her and his eyes did that magic thing she’d seen on rare occasions. They turned from hard flint to the softest tropical blue, just for an instant before reverting to hard once more. ‘I need to leave. And it has to be now.’ His voice was scratchy and raw, as if he’d swallowed sandpaper. ‘Do you understand?’
No. ‘No. I don’t understand.’ The full impact had taken a few moments to sink in and now shock turned to desperation. But she kept her voice steady. ‘I do understand you need time to heal. But I can help you with that. Now you’ve talked about it, we can work on strategies together. If you want, we can see a counsellor …’
He shook his head. ‘It was always temporary, Lissa. We knew that.’
‘So that’s it, then.’ No tears. Her eyes were as dry as dust and she was grateful for it. A swift clean break now would allow her to focus on her new career. She’d be so busy she wouldn’t have time to miss him.
‘Why don’t you go make us some breakfast?’
She couldn’t seem to drag her eyes away from his face. This was what he wanted and she so wanted him to be happy. He deserved to be happy, to live his life in peace and solitude if that was what he wanted. But why did it have to hurt so much? Why did it feel as if her very soul were being torn apart?
‘So you’re walking away.’ She’d sworn she’d not say it but it was as if someone else were speaking through her. ‘After everything I’ve just said. After all we’ve been through. What we’ve come to mean to each other. You can pack up and move on just like that?’ She clicked her fingers in front of her face.
And for one thudding heartbeat she thought she saw the same emotions rip through his gaze, but maybe she was hallucinating because when she blinked her vision clear there was nothing but that flinty-eyed, self-contained remoteness.
‘On second thought, forget breakfast, it’s best if I just go,’ he said, with that same wretched aloofness. ‘You’re dead on your feet and you always did have that flair for the overly dramatic.’
He crossed to her, took her hands in his and she wanted to pull away from his touch, to prove she could, but her hands were numb. ‘It’s not the end of the world, Lissa, it’s just the beginning. You’ll thank me later. A good eight hours’ sleep and everything will fall into perspective. You’ll wake rejuvenated and ready to take on the next challenge in your life.
‘We want different things. You need stability. A home, family. I want to feel the salt air on my face and drop anchor wherever I please. And that’s not the kind of man you need. We had some good times but we always knew it was just a fling.’
She flinched at his tone and the word. Fling. It sounded almost sordid, an abomination for what she thought they’d had. Had she been the only one to feel that intensity? Or the only one dumb enough, naive enough to let it matter?
‘You know something? I don’t need a man in my life. Why do you men always think you’re so indispensable?’
‘I guess we’ve said it all, then.’ He picked up one of his bags, slung it over his shoulder.
‘I guess we have.’ Damn him, she wasn’t going to watch him walk away. Their talk had drained every last drop of energy from her and she didn’t know how much longer she could remain standing. ‘I hope you enjoy your freedom. And I’ll always be grateful for your helping hand when I was down, so thank you for that.’ She stepped away. ‘I think I’ll go take that nap. You’ll probably be gone when I wake up, so. I’ll say goodbye now.’
He nodded once, then tore what was left of her heart out when he kissed her cheek lightly and said, ‘I’ll see you around some time.’
Not in this lifetime, she vowed later sitting on the couch with her arms around his pillow watching the afternoon shadows creep over the pool.
And she’d been left to explain why he wasn’t going to be coming to brunch with her family. She’d opted out too, pleading fatigue. She squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears.
In one evening she’d been handed her dream career, her independence, her new life. And lost the man she loved.
The shop opened on Monday. Jill, one of Maddie’s staff from the Noosa branch, had come down to help for a couple of weeks with a view to looking at relocating there to be closer to her family. Older than Lissa and with a few years’ experience under her belt, Jill was bright and enthusiastic and Lissa hoped she’d stay on.
People dropped in to wish Lissa well and share the bubbly Maddie had sent. She didn’t think about Blake at all. No way. Not for a minute.
She did not imagine him sharing the excitement of her first day or seeing him walk in at closing, eyes hot for her, hair glinting under the rings of fire when he came to whisk her away for a celebration dinner.
Then mid-morning a massive floral arrangement arrived. Three dozen fragrant yellow roses spilling from a ginormous glass bowl. ‘Someone loves you.’ Jill grinned as the black-capped delivery guy in his crisp black shirt with its gold logo set it on the coffee table in the display area.
A little tag gave instructions for care of cut flowers and a hand-written explanation that yellow roses celebrated success and new beginnings.
‘My brother.’ Lissa smiled back, tugging at the attached envelope. ‘He’s always.’ Her voice trailed off, her smile dropping away as she read the card inside.
Congratulations! Thinking of you today. Blake.
The surprise caught her off-guard. Her nose stung, her eyes brimmed and something huge and heavy lodged in her throat. He’d thought enough to choose the exact right flowers and, what was more, he’d wanted her to know. ‘They’re from my. They’re from Blake.’
‘You mean that dishy navy guy from Saturday night?’
Lissa heard Jill’s appreciative murmur and shuffled the card quickly back in its envelope. ‘He’s left the navy. Bought himself a yacht. He won’t be coming back any time soon.’ She turned her back on the flowers and headed for her desk, aware of Jill’s gaze boring into her neck.
But she slept in his bed that night. The following night she moved her stuff there. Just for the short time until she found her own place. She told herself she liked the view of the river from there.
In the evenings after putting in hours of overtime at Lissa’s, she sketched. She finished the piece she’d been working on. After all, she knew every plane and angle of his face. A portrait of Blake. She’d give it to him some time when he was passing through.
She put on some music and danced in the living room until she was physically exhausted, then tossed for hours, unable to sleep. Citing work as the reason, she put off visiting her family.
Work, work, work. It gave her a reason to get up in the morning. She enjoyed the long hours. She loved seeing the process move from plan to finished perfection. The income allowed her to start repaying the debt into the bank account Blake had set up.
To her surprise, over the next few weeks she discovered she could live without Blake and not fall to pieces every time she thought of him. She knew she could lead the fulfilling, independent life she’d wanted.
But now she knew Blake as well as anyone could, she’d always feel as if a part of her were missing. One day she might even be able to think about dating again. It was ironic that it had been Blake who’d given her back that confidence.
She’d not heard