Page 163 of False God

She rolls her eyes, then reaches for her water glass. “You just happened to end up inEnglandas part of your work trip to Dublin? Come on, Lili. If you want, I’ll pretend to be oblivious. But we both know why you’re here, and it’s not to have lunch with me.”

I exhale. “I wanted … closure.”

“And? Have you gotten any?”

“No.” I glance at the old man absorbed in his newspaper, then back at Chloe’s knowing expression. “Every time I think it’s the end, it somehow turns into another beginning. He’s … it was supposed to be a fun fling this summer after the Claremont Park stress. I feel like I need to land this big, important project to prove that—to keep proving myself. I’ve been worried about what to tackle next for weeks, and Charlie made me forget about that. It’s not fun anymore. I mean, parts of it are fun, but the rest is confusing and overwhelming and scary. He listens to me, and he pays attention, and then there are also moments where he just knows what I need. I thought I’d come here, and it would be weird and uncomfortable and …over, and it isn’t.”

“You’re in love with him.”

I drop the spoon. Rest my face in my hands. “I know,” I groan toward the tablecloth.

“Fran told me he came to the hospital.”

I lift my face enough to see her again. “You guys were gossiping about me?”

Chloe smirks. “We’ve been gossiping about you since he dared you to go on a date with him, Lili.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s not exactly what happened.”

“That’s exactly what happened. And don’t think we didn’t all notice that was the slowest you’ve ever driven. When we raced in Monaco for Jasper’s twenty-first, Tripp was the only one who beat you.”

“So? I was a little rusty.”

Chloe’s eyes dance as she leans forward. “Don’t lie to me. I’m not saying you could have beaten him?—”

“Rude,” I interject.

“But you sure didn’t try very hard. Because he fought for you. Look, I love Cal—I do—but he took you for granted. He assumed years of friendship equaled a perfect relationship with minimal effort. Charles wanted you, and he made sure everyone knew it. There’s a big difference.”

“I don’t knowwhathe wants,” I admit. “He’s never been in a relationship. He’s planning to marry a woman dying to be a duchess. He justleftin Saint-Tropez, like I was a hotel reservation with an enforced checkout time.”

Chloe’s forehead wrinkles. “He didn’t tell you why?”

“Tell me why? What are you talking about?”

She sighs. “One of the partners at Theo’s firm told him that Grace Marlborough had a stroke a couple of weeks ago. She spent a few days in the hospital.”

“Grace?”

“His grandmother.”

“Oh.”

His grandmother had a stroke.

That explains why Charlie left France so suddenly. It doesn’t explain why I’m just hearing about it now.

Why didn’t he tell me?

The simplest explanation is that he didn’t consider me important enough to confide in. But then why did he fly to New York a week later? Why has he made me feel like a welcome visitor ever since I showed up on Newcastle Hall’s massive doorstep?

None of it makes sense, and I haven’t pushed for answers because I know it will pop this pleasant bubble I’ve been existing in since I arrived in England.

But I refuse to leave without getting them. I won’t get on the plane tomorrow without knowing exactly where we stand.

Chloe seems to sense I need a break from discussing Charlie and pelts me with questions about New York.

I fill her in on some of the antics of our friends—Bridget is now dating a guy in a band, and Jasper might move to Miami permanently—and about Mom and Dad’s return to New York. Dad started back at Kensington Consolidated a week ago. Kit’s first day is on Monday.

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