Cross My Hart (The Notorious Harts 1) - Page 58

and what we feel is to what they shared, then what hope do I have?

I tilt my chin defiantly even when I think all my bones are breaking into tiny, crumbling pieces. ‘Then go.’

I glare at him, waiting.

There’s silence.

‘You don’t need to go to the airport for another hour.’

I jerk my head in a tiny acknowledgement of his words.

‘Don’t let it end like this,’ he growls, jamming his hands into his pockets. ‘We’ve had too much fun for it to finish with an argument.’

‘Fun?’ I spit, the asinine description of what we’ve shared rankling more than just about anything.

‘Yes, fun! Goddamned fun! Like we both wanted, like we both needed. What’s wrong with that?’

Because it’s not enough any more. The idea of having a no-strings fling with Jagger is so absurd, so hugely out of step with what we are.

‘You think this is fun?’

‘Not right now, I don’t.’

I ignore him. ‘You honestly think you’re going to fly off into the sky and carry on your life? That you won’t miss me, this, us?’

He stares at me and I feel the pain bursting through him, too. Damn it! I’d bet almost anything on him wanting to stay, on him being in love with me.

But he’s too damned stubborn, his own past making admitting that impossible, and my own past making me too wary to push him. I’m done with men who don’t truly want me as much as I want them.

He shakes his head slowly, and it’s the final drop of the blade. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says again, frowning, stepping backwards.

Fuck.

‘Just go.’

He nods, his eyes locked to mine. ‘You deserve better than me. Better than him.’

‘Just go.’ It’s a plaintive whisper. I need him to leave so I can cry—properly.

* * *

I pull the door to my apartment shut and slump against it. I think it must be about eight o’clock. Maybe closer to nine.

My body is heavy, my mind more so.

Eleven days since I returned from the Whitsundays. Nine days since Jagger’s lawyer emailed the contracts over. Eight days since Orion Karakedes accepted.

Five days since I offered to buy Gareth out of our business.

Four days since he agreed, even when he told me he didn’t want this, that he didn’t want us to ruin what we’d built.

Four days since I told him to stop being such an arrogant arse. I’m not going to ruin what we built; I’m going to make it stronger.

Better.

All on my own.

On my own.

Tags: Clare Connelly The Notorious Harts Billionaire Romance
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