‘I’ve had my battles.’
‘Breaking out from family expectation?’ she teased.
Well, that wasn’t as nothing as she made it sound when you were talking five generations of expectation, of being the sixth Andrew G. Hollingsworth and the only one to turn into Gabe. Of never feeling as if you could have your own voice. At the time, as a teen, it had been all but everything.
She laughed and answered her own question. ‘All that did for you was get you even more used to having your own way.’
Yeah, he was totally used to getting what he wanted. But he was miles off getting it now. This was a first. This was not nice.
‘Gabe, when you’ve fought some really tough battles, you know when something’s worth that effort or not. And this place isn’t worth my fighting for any more,’ she said. ‘It’s right for me to leave it.’
He just didn’t believe she meant that. ‘Roxie?—’
He broke off when he saw her stiffen.
And that was when he knew. She might be bleeding to death inside, but her mind was made up and she was the strongest person he’d ever met. She’d chosen her path and she was running for it. So why try and stand in her way? If this was what she truly wanted, and apparently it was, why argue and make it harder for her? He’d only fail at it anyway.
She looked as if she hadn’t slept at all the last couple of nights. Probably worrying and breaking her heart over losing the house. Now he was furious—she should have bloody gotten in touch with him. It hurt that she hadn’t. Instead she’d made all these decisions already. On her own.
Was that because he wasn’t important enough to her to talk to about it? He was merely a bedmate, nothing more than a toyfor her? He had the horrible feeling it was. And there was one way of finding out for sure.
‘I got you a little something when I was in Sydney,’ he said, lightening his tone completely.
Her eyes widened in genuine surprise.
He dug the new phone from his pocket and handed it out to her. ‘We can stay in touch. If you ever need anything...’ He trailed off, momentarily floored by the frozen expression on her face. ‘You don’t need to worry about the ongoing costs or anything. I’ve got that covered.’
‘Gabe, I can’t accept this from you.’
Just the phone or anything he might offer? ‘Sure you can.’ He forced a smile. ‘It has a great camera—you’ll need that on your travels. I’ve downloaded some apps for you already, set up an account so you can get more, whatever you want.’
‘Gabe—’
‘You live in the mobile age, Roxie, you need one. It’s a safety thing—see it can be a torch, an alarm, a GPS navigation system...’
He was selling it too hard. Only because she looked more and more distanced. Not wanting to be rude to him, but clearly not wanting to even touch the thing. Oh, hell, he’d been right. The distress he read in her had nothing to do with him. She didn’t want to know him once she’d gone.
‘You can text me any time, send me a photo or something.’ He pushed one last time for a reaction.
And at that she smiled and took the phone from him. ‘You just want a sex pic, right?’
It was the worst attempt at humor he’d ever heard.
‘Honestly, I just want you to be able to get in touch if you need to,’ he said.
If shewantedto. Which clearly she didn’t. He got it now. Oh, yeah, she was hurting, she was a mess inside. But not abouthim,it was all her house. He’d seen her a bit shaken up only last week over a simple burst pipe; he knew how much work she’d put into that garden, into keeping the place in shape, the furniture that had all that history. And she was gutted about losing it all.
But not about leaving him.
‘I’d like to get in touch now,’ she purred, stepping closer. ‘There are still a few items on my list that we haven’t ticked.’ She actually pulled it out from her pocket and unfolded it.
Gabe didn’t see the sheet for the red fog of fury that suddenly materialized before his eyes. ‘You risked your neck going in there to get your sex list?’ And she’d stashed it in her pocket so they could work through it together tonight? Irate, he glared at her make-up and her pretty dress and her fancy shoes—she’d got dolled up for her last debauched night with him? He really was just a tool to help tick off her list?
She looked slightly apologetic. ‘Well, I would have got your stuff but I didn’t want to pry into your personal things.’
Oh, of course she didn’t. The dinners, the movies on the sofa, the laughs, that last time they’d been together? All had meant nothing to her. It really was just a physical fling. A feel-good-for-the-moment thing. She was keeping her innermost emotions at a distance and using him as some kind of take-the-edge-off crutch?
‘I think it’ll be okay if you just zip in and out to get your personal items quickly,’ she added, spreading her hands wider over his torso. ‘But you should probably get the construction guys in hard hats to retrieve the furniture and stuff.’
