Page 118 of The Singles Club
“If love is supposed to be all in the mind, then why does my heart hurt so badly?” I sunk my head against her shoulders, and she hugged me closer.
“Because you love him.”
I did, and if that were enough, I would’ve stopped Justin before he got in that car and kissed him and told him I was all in.
But I knew it wasn’t enough. Justin deserved a woman who was ready to give what I couldn’t.
25
Last Coaching Session
Justin
Ishut down my computer and checked my phone for the hundredth time. Vivian’s flight left in less than an hour. I hoped that letter would have helped her see what I did, but in the end, she had to be ready in her heart… and I had to respect her wishes and let her go.
Although that was a lot easier said than done.
This weekend was about my parents, and I didn’t need my mother feeling any guiltier than she already did. My call to her wasn’t enough; she needed to see that I would be okay and not close off like the last time. At least I could keep busy with helping to make sure everything went as smoothly as possible.
There was a knock on my office door before Isabella poked her head in. “You should probably leave now if you want to avoid rush hour traffic.”
“Just shutting down.”
“I can take care of that for you.”
“Alright.” I ran a hand across my face and got up from the chair. I slipped on my coat and grabbed my suitcase sitting in the corner. “You have the address to the hotel?”
“Yes, I got an invitation, too, remember?”
“Oh yeah, so I’ll see you tomorrow then.” I started toward the door and turned around. “Oh, and before you leave, don’t forget to call Rajesh about—”
“Lunch on Wednesday,” she finished for me. “I know. Everything is fine. This place isn’t going to fall apart because you’re leaving early.”
“I know I don’t say this often enough, but you’re really great at your job.”
“How about showing me how much in a Christmas bonus?”
I laughed. “Don’t push it.”
But she knew damned well I’d take care of her like I did last year. Which was probably the reason she put up with me these past two years.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” She stood with her arms crossed. I checked my pockets. My keys and wallet were there, suitcase. She pointed toward my closet.
“The tux!”
She shook her head as I slung the garment bag over my shoulder.
“Drive safe.”
“Will do.”
By the time Sergio brought my car, I had checked my phone one last time… only ten minutes before she boarded that plane.
My Ilsa was on her way to Paris inCasablancafashion.
* * *
Vivian
