Page 73 of Love In Translation

She scowled. “Like I ran five miles without training. I think I’ve pulled every muscle in my body.”

He winced. “Well done for finishing.”

When her eyes connected with his, he clocked the heat in hers. He was in the path of an incoming missile and there was nowhere to run.

“Don’t patronize me, Fletch.”

What? Where did that come from? He was genuinely proud of her for finishing, as he told her.

She shook her head, disbelieving. He had never seen her look so remote. They needed to cross their t’s and dot their i’s, but he didn’t know where to start, or even how to start.

Rheo dropped her legs and looked up at him, her expression hard. “So, is this where you tell me that I did great, that I can walk back into my job feeling massively more confident because I finished that stupid race? Screw you, Fletch, I didn’t need a race to feel like that.”

Huh? “You finished the race. Surely you feel some sense of achievement?”

“I didn’tneedto finish the race, I was good with quitting and happy with my decision. Then you looked at me, and I wanted to show you, only you, that you were wrong about me. I have grit and determination—lots of it—for what I want to do. All I needed was for you, and them, my parents and Carrie, to hold my hand and tell me that I’d be fine, that I would figure it out, that I had this.”

He felt lost. “I thought you were amazing out there. I am so incredibly proud of you.”

She sent him a thin smile. “But it would’ve meant more if you’d been proud of me whatever way the chips fell. If you’d supported me when I told you, and everyone, that I didn’t want to do that stupid fucking race,thatwould’ve been brilliant. But, no, you couldn’t do that. You, like everyone else in my family, only respect grit and determination and self-respect when you can relate to it.

“Tell me, Fletcher, how would you feel if I demanded you do a speech in French to bigwigs of a production company, right now, when you’ve never spoken the language before?” she asked.

Shit.Shit.

Her words were a spear through his heart. She was right, dammit. Not only had he botched up the end to their relationship, he’d pushed her into his world, confident in his belief that he knew what she needed. Hewasa patronizing prick.

“I’m so sorry, Rhee. I’m sorry I made you feel less than, like my approval was contingent on your completing that race. I never doubted your determination, Rhee. It’s one of the many things I lo—like about you.”

She narrowed her eyes, unimpressed by his statement. Admittedly, maybe it was too little too late. “You sure don’t act like you lo—” Rheo deliberately cut the word off, too sharp to have missed his earlier slip of the tongue “—likeme.”

He looked her in the eye and didn’t pull away. He owed her that.

“So, are you finally admitting there are some feelings between us?”

“Yes.”

He couldn’t tell her he was fathoms deep in love with her, that he wanted to stay but couldn’t.

“Feelings that are deeper than they should be,” he quietly admitted. “Feelings I should have talked to you about, instead of ghosting you.”

What else could he say? It was the truth.

But their feelings—love, like, lust, need, want—didn’t change a damn thing. Nothing would keep them together when they would be, geographically, miles apart. Continents apart. Across the world apart.

Knowing what he wanted, what he couldn’t have, sent anger streaking through his soul. “How does any of this help when we can’t be with each other? How does it solve the fact that we are diametrically opposite people who love different things?”

She shrugged.

“What’s the fucking point of feeling like this when nothing can come of it, Rheo?” he shouted. He hauled in a deep breath and lowered his voice. “How the hell do you think we could make a relationship work? You’re not naive, Rheo. You can’t wave a magic wand and make it all work out.”

“I—”

No, he couldn’t do this. She needed to understand it wasn’t possible. “I willnotgive up my work for you, Rheo. I wouldn’t do that for anyone. And if I won’t do that for you, I sure as hell can’t expect you to do it for me! My expeditions run for nine months a year. You’d be on your own.”

Rheo’s eyebrows rose and she started to speak, but Fletch refused her the chance. They were an iceberg hitting a canoe. A typhoon hitting a wooden fishing hut. They’d end up hating each other, and he wouldn’t do that to them...he couldn’t. He’d tried to minimize how he felt about her, and pushed his feelings away. Tried ghosting her. Nothing worked. But he was dman certain that she’d come to loathe him if he loved her, but kept leaving her.

He couldn’t live in the world knowing Rheo hated him.

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