Pippa’s body felt limp, as if she might fold to the floor. “Yourfarm,” she said.
He went very still. “Yes.”
“And the fact it’s my home, where I’ve dedicated all my time and effort means, what? Nothing?” She gulped back tears. “Did I not even warrant asking? Do I mean that little to you?”
He paled, jamming his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry you see it that way. I just did what I thought was best for us.”
It was as if he wasn’t hearing what she was saying. How much plainer could she make it? “I don’t want to leave.”
“For God’s sake!” Alex leapt out of his chair. “Do you not see what a prime opportunity this is? Did you even read the brochure?”
Pippa nodded. He’d helpfully left the brochure next to the letter and she’d perused the document until her eyes were too sore to focus. “I did.”
“And?”
Now he asks me my opinion,Pippa thought. “It’s risky. Without solid contacts in the right industries, you’ll be starting from scratch without much leverage. I also noticed that there’s not enough information on business rates and—”
“And what?” Alex demanded. “It’s notcosyenough? Not Yorkshire enough? Too far out of your comfort zone?”
Pippa was aghast. He was treating her like an ignorant stranger, not his life partner. “How can you talk to me like this?”
Alex threw his hands up. “How canyounot appreciate the opportunity? We have a real chance to enter the big leagues of business here, make serious money. A name for ourselves!” He exhaled, cheeks puffing. “I thought this would be the perfect project for you.”
“I had the perfect project,” Pippa said, her voice cracking. “I hadyou. We had each other and I thought that was enough.” What made her heart hurt was that it clearly hadn’t been enough for Alex.
“Look.” He folded his arms. “The deal is done. You might not want to move to Kent, but…” He lifted his chin, eyes reddening. “You can’t stay here. So, what’s it going to be?”
ChapterFour
Two months later
“Are you serious?” Frankie slammed his front door behind him and surveyed the scene. Pippa was prostrate on his couch in almost exactly the position she’d been in when he’d set off for work that morning almost five hours ago.
Pippa grunted but didn’t move.
“Are you wearing my sweatpants again?” Frankie headed to the fridge and pulled out Tupperware. As he decanted last night’s leftover pasta onto a plate, Pippa thought about the fact that he had been eating lunch at home more often of late. Initially, she’d thought it was so he could spend an extra half an hour or so with her, but increasingly, it occurred to Pippa that Frankie was starting to genuinely worry about her.
“Maybe.” She rolled to her side and yawned. Despite the fact she spent a lot of time lying in front of the telly, she was exhausted all the time. Adrift. Since she and Alex had split, she had no job, no home, no purpose. She’d had plenty of time to work out what she wanted to do, but it seemed all she was capable of since the breakup was mindless, painful existence. Even sleep was beyond her.
“There’s no maybe about it.” Frankie pointed at her. “Mine.”
Pippa huffed. “Fine. Yes. I love them! They’re perfect for watching Loose Women,” she said. “Massive pockets that I can fit snacks into.”
Frankie’s eyes fluttered as he fought to remain calm. “They’re cashmere, Pippa.” She rubbed the fabric between her fingers with a sceptical expression and he tutted. “Okay fine, cashmere blend. They still cost a bomb.”
Pippa nodded. “So, you’re telling me that I shouldn’t hoard bourbon biscuits in them?”
Frankie slid his pasta into the microwave. “I’d rather you didn’t!”
“Jeez, chill. I’m just pulling your leg.” She stood and stretched.
“Good.”
“What’s your stance on digestives?” Pippa ducked as Frankie lobbed a tea towel at her. The towel sailed over her head and landed on her Monstera, which had been unceremoniously shoved in the corner next to the standing lamp. “Mind my plant!”
“I swear that thing grows a foot a night,” Frankie said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s actually a Triffid. I bet I’ll wake up one night to find it sucking my brains out through my nose or something.”
Pippa retrieved the kitchen towel and patted the plant’s leaves. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
