Bonnie cackled. Boots were removed and she and her brother disappeared into the cottage. Lucas turned before following them.
His scent was awash with sadness. I didn’t know what that meant, told myself I didn’t want to know. Lucas would be my friend, one day, but right now I didn’t have to concern myself with why his mouth was downturned and why his hands shook as he bunched them into fists.
‘Lukey,’ Aster called from the kitchen diner. ‘Get in here before all the roasties are gone.’
Lucas swallowed. I wanted to stamp hard on the teeny morsel of hope that bloomed as he stared at me. It was clearly misguided and refused to see reason. Lucas didn’t rush over ormake any grand declarations. He let out a slow exhale, then trailed into the house.
I gripped the gate post and breathed deep, refusing to let moisture gather in my eyes.
If Lucas wanted me, he would have spoken up. He had issues with saying no, but he wasn’t incapable of making his wants and needs known.
He just didn’t want or need me.
I bit my lip and closed my eyes. My insides felt flayed, my heart sore, but I could do this. I could endure one meal before I crawled back to my cottage and wept.
Lucas would leave, and I would commence the business of moving on. The first stage of which would be annoying Kat with the sheer amount of tears I was capable of crying over a man who’d trampled my heart.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
LUCAS
Lunch passed in a daze.
In a parody of the meal after Kit rescued me from overly concerned pet owners weeks ago, we sat across the table from one another. During the lunches since, we’d always sat side by side. Our knees had pressed together and our elbows nudged as we ate.
That first lunch had been full of hope. I’d been unsure that Kit understood exactly what he was taking on by proposing a friendship with me, but I’d wanted to try. I’d wanted to know him.
Now I did, and he wanted nothing to do with me after I’d let him down.
Despite the buzzing in my ears that drowned out the boisterous conversations bouncing around the table, I registered Aster’s frown as he looked between Kit and me. Callum whispered in his ear, saying something I could easily have heard if my brain wasn’t a hive of bees, and Aster snuggled into his side.
I tried not to look at Kit too much, sure that he wouldn’t welcome my attention any more than he did my generalpresence in his life, but everything else was an indistinct blur. I shovelled a huge portion of roast dinner into my mouth and the flavours registered distantly, but couldn’t compare to my raving desire to heave the table out of the way and throw myself into Kit’s arms.
I hated that he was sad. His brown eyes never met mine and he didn’t say a word as he slowly ate. He was a quiet man, but I never wanted to see him so small and silent ever again.
I’d made this happen. My thoughtless actions had diminished him.
I should have considered how it would look when I left the cottage this morning. My worries had loomed so large, but I should have known what waking up alone would do to Kit. He’d told me about his dating history, how no one he’d been with seemed to want him for anything more than a quick thrill.
Even though I was scared of overwhelming him, I should never have left without impressing on Kit that he was the most important person in my world.
I’d been so scared of losing him because I was sure everything I felt was too much, but I’d lost him because I’d been blinded by my own fear and said too little.
Plates were cleared, pudding brought out, and I wanted to scream. I didn’t want to live in this cottage or up in the mountains, I wanted to make a home with Kit. I didn’t want him to think I was some uncaring arsehole who didn’t want him, but he didn’t want to hear it.
I wanted him so badly, but I couldn’t see a way to make any of this right.
A cupcake had been placed in front of me. I took a bite, then gagged.
It was dry, yet flooded my mouth with saliva as I fought to choke down an overly salty mouthful.
Everyone else’s faces ranged from outright disgust to ill-concealed horror.
Joshua, always smiling unless someone brought up his absent brother, looked around the suddenly silent table. His bushy beard reconfigured as he bit his lip. ‘Do you like them?’
We were collectively saved from answering by a loud buzz. This time it wasn’t inside my head. The mouthful of cupcake leaden on my tongue, I wiggled my phone free from my pocket.
My face wouldn’t have been happy given the combination of Kit based misery and the heinous cupcake turning to mush in my mouth, but it must have fallen even further when I saw it was a number I didn’t recognise flashing across my phone screen.
