She closed her eyes, hearing his hard, heavy footsteps on the stairs heading down. As hard and heavy as the hammer-blows of her heart. Slaying her.
Leandros was in his office, but he was not working. Work was impossible, though it was piling up. Over and over in his head he could hear a replay of his last exchange with Eliana.
‘You’re going to someone else.’
And her one-word answer.
‘Yes.’
One word—one single word—and it damned her. Damned her to hell. But he didn’t want her in hell. Hell was where he was—and seeing her again would be another circle of hell for him, another agony.
How could she be going to someone else? How could she be leaving him? After what they’d had in Paris?
After what we claimed for ourselves.
‘Healing’, she’d called it, and the word blazed in his head now. Yes, that was exactly, totally what it had been. He felt it now, the truth of it filling him.
I found her again—the woman I once loved.
But now he had lost her again.
Rebellion rose up in him.
Six years ago I let her leave me. I let money be more important to her than loving me. I let her do that. I didn’t challenge it... I didn’t fight her for it.
Because six years ago she hadn’t been worth fighting for.
But this time...
This time she is.
Whatever had happened to her in the dysfunctional marriage she’d made, she had changed. She must have changed. Or else why would she not have taken from him everything she could? All that he had originally promised her? She’d refused gifts of jewellery, left her couture wardrobe behind. Walked away with nothing of what he’d offered her when he’d told her he wanted her to go to Paris with him.
And what they’d had in Paris had been good.
Maybe I didn’t understand what was happening to me—to us. Maybe I still wasn’t sure what I wanted. But now—Now I won’t lose it. I won’t let it go, never to return.
He felt his hands clench into fists. This time he would not give up on her.
He stared, unseeing, across his office. Emotion was churning inside him. Powerful. Insistent. Focussed on one goal only.
Eliana.
Getting her back.
Eliana was back at work, back to stacking shelves, back at the till, back to fetching and carrying. She wasn’t working full-time any longer, but the wage she earned was still essential to her finances. The supermarket was farther away from where she was now based, and she was on the lookout for something closer. She wished she could find something better paid, but that was unlikely, given her lack of marketable skills.
She gave a sigh. No point wanting things that were impossible.
Like wanting Leandros.
No, she mustn’t let her thoughts go there, or her memories. It was like pouring acid on an open wound.
I survived a broken heart six years ago—I can survive it again. I must.
Because there was no alternative. As before, she’d made her choice—and now she was living with it.
No point complaining or repining.