Page 48 of Here Comes Trouble

Page List

Font Size:

Somewhere in the back of her brain she’d harboured the hope that the time they’d spent together had meant more to him than any of his previous non-relationships, and that this time he wanted more.

That he wanted her like she wanted him.

But she knew she was kidding herself, just look at how detached he’d been with her this morning. This relationship was only ever a temporary thing for him. For both of them. A whimsy, a game, a lark.

What had he called it?

A blip in their timeline.

He’d made that very clear.

She had to pull herself together.

Not giving herself time to fuss and start fiddling with a word here and a word there, she attached the document she’d just written to an email to Pam and hit send, and it was gone – her future – off into the ether.

Her time here was finished.

All she had to do now was say goodbye.

Feeling as if her feet were made of lead, she searched the house for Xander, finding him painting madly away in his studio, in what seemed to have become his usual zoned-out state over the last couple of days. She watched him for a few minutes, taking in the graceful fluidity of his movements as he swiped his brush across the canvas. He was frowning hard in concentration, his handsome face shuttered and drawn as he poured his soul onto the canvas.

He barely glanced up as she moved into the room.

She understood his utter absorption in what he was doing, she’d felt the same about her writing and it was heartening to see him in such a frenzy of excited activity after being so agitated about not being able to make the magic happen before now. She liked to think she had something to do with that, in some small way.

Finally, he glanced up from what he was doing and noticed her standing there.

‘Hey, Jess, how long have you been there?’

‘Only a couple of minutes,’ she said quietly.

He nodded distractedly. ‘The exhibition’s taking shape. It’s all coming together.’ The look in his eye was almost manic.

‘Well, I’m really pleased for you,’ she managed to force past the lump in her throat.

‘Jess?’ He was looking at her as if he was worried she was about to cry – which was pretty much on the money.

Pull yourself together, woman.

She didn’t want him to see how upset she was about the inevitable end of their time together.

Glancing away, she smoothed her hair down against her head and fought against the growing tension in the back of her throat. She couldn’t look at him any more. If she did, he’d see just how much she was struggling to keep it together.

‘I finished my article,’ she said, attempting to keep the misery out of her voice.

‘Oh yeah?’ he looked at her, his eyes blank, his mind obviously still on his painting.

‘Don’t worry, I gave you a good write-up and I didn’t include anything too salacious.’

He smiled. ‘Great, that’s great, Jess. Congratulations.’

He looked back at his painting as if he’d said all there was to say.

She was being dismissed.

So this was it then. The end of the affair.

‘Okay then, I guess I’d better let you get on with finishing your picture. Will you let me know when you’re exhibiting? I’ll leave my contact details on the hall table. I’d love to finally get to see what you’ve been working so hard on.’