The Casanova (The Miles High Club Book 3)

“Your brother and solicitor are downstairs, they’ve posted your bail,” the police officer says as he writes something on his pad.

I clench my jaw as I stare at him. “I did nothing wrong.”

He exhales heavily, clearly frustrated. “We’ve been through this, ten times today already, Mr. Miles. You cannot smash someone’s private property. Nor can you assault them. Now stop wasting my time with your blatant disregard for the law.”

“What about my rights? Where is my protection? I don’t want my photo taken, are you telling me that he has a right to do something against my will and I’m unable to react? I was protecting myself and my loved ones. It’s my rights that have been compromised today.”

“Look.” He sighs. “Stop playing dumb. You know how this works, you own a media company, for Christ’s sake.” He hands me a ticket. “You’ve been charged with assault and vandalism, get your solicitor to fight the arguments in court. I don’t make the laws.”

I snatch it out of his hand. “What you do is protect criminals.” I stand.

He rolls his eyes.

“And don’t roll your fucking eyes at me,” I snap.

“Do you want to go back to the lockup? Is that it?” He gestures to the door. “Just go, before you overstep the line for the tenth time today.”

I’m led downstairs and into the reception area, where I see Christopher and our lawyer sitting and waiting. I glare at them and turn to the police officer. “I want my possessions returned.”

“Your phone, belt, and keys are in the tray over on the counter.”

I take them and put them in my pockets. “Let’s go.”

“Thank you, officer,” Christopher says.

“Don’t fucking thank him,” I snap. “It’s a joke that I was even arrested.” I storm out of the front door of the police station.

“Will you stop being such a fucking prick?” Christopher calls from behind me. “It’s not his fault you had a brain snap.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I whisper angrily as I march down the steps. I turn toward them. “Thank you both for coming. Go home, now.”

“You go home too, Mr. Miles,” Edward, our solicitor, says. “You are in no state to be in public.”

“I’m fine.”

“You are not fine. Go straight home before you make your situation worse.”

“It can’t get any fucking worse,” I snap.

“Believe me, it can. Christopher, drive him home and stay with him tonight.”

“I will, don’t worry.”

“Fuck off the both of you.” I turn away in disgust. “Actually, drive me back to my car.”

“I had Andrew pick your car up earlier,” Christopher says. “I’m driving you home.”

I stare at him. “Fine.” I shake Edward’s hand. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be in touch. Stay home, Elliot. I can’t stress to you how important it is that you don’t get into any more trouble.”

“I won’t let him out of my sight,” Christopher says.

I exhale heavily and we walk over to his car. I slam the door shut. “Take me to Kate’s.”

“I am not taking you to Kate’s.”

“Fine.” I open the car door to get back out. “I’ll fucking walk.” I march down the street in the direction of her house.

“She doesn’t want to see you,” he calls.

I carry on walking and he drives the car up alongside me and winds down the window. “Stop being an idiot.”

I keep walking.

“Elliot, you are all over the news right now. They’ll be camped out the front of her house.”

I stop on the spot and my shoulders slump. “I’ve fucked it.”

“I know.” He sighs. “But you can’t be acting like a lunatic. Go home and call her. I’ll go pick her up myself, I promise. You cannot just turn up there unannounced.”

I stare at him.

“What if she won’t let you in?” he asks.

“She will.”

“Will she?” he says. “Because I saw the footage of her on the news taking a swing at you and she didn’t look like she was too happy to see you.”

My heart drops. “You saw that?”

“Everyone’s seen it, it was filmed from a phone.” His eyes hold mine. “Just get in the fucking car, man.” He sighs sadly.

I look up the street.

Fuck.

I get in the car and slam the door and we drive in silence.

Eventually he turns on to the motorway and we head to Enchanted.

I stare out of the window with my phone in my hand. What do I do?

I close my eyes in regret.

I fucked up . . . bad.

“She’s not going to forgive me,” I say as I get a vision of Kate from today, the look in her eyes. “I know her, she’s too stubborn . . . if you saw how hurt and angry she was.”

“Do you blame her?” Christopher says as his eyes flick over to me.

I clench my jaw as anger surges.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Christopher snaps. “You had it. For the first time, you actually had it in your hand. A woman who made you happy . . . and you go off on some stupid fucking tangent chasing an artist.”

“It’s not stupid to me,” I cry. “I’d only been with Kate for a month.” I kick the dashboard.

“Don’t kick my car or I’m kicking you out, and you can fucking walk, prick,” Christopher yells.

“I had been searching for this artist for years. I’ve been obsessed with her, I thought there was something there.”

“Did you sleep with her?” His eyes move between me and the road.

I stay silent.

“Did you fuck this artist or not?” he yells.

“No!” I scream. “As soon as I got there I knew I had done the wrong thing.”

“So why then . . . did you stay?”

“I stayed one night.”

“So . . . you did sleep with her?”

“No.” I shake my head, regret swimming through my body. “She was full on into me and . . . I faked a headache and went back to my hotel room. I didn’t even get through the first dinner date.”

He frowns at me.

“I was confused,” I cry. “I thought it was a sign, that she was the one.” My nostrils flare as I try to get a hold of my emotions. “The beautiful woman I had been searching for, for years, was right in front of me, but then when I looked at her . . . she wasn’t Kate.”

Christopher shakes his head in disgust.

“I told her the next morning that I’d made a mistake and was going home. I bought the remainder of her paintings and left.”

“Then where have you been for a week?”

“I believed in fate. The destiny I had dreamed about and thought I wanted wasn’t even real. It took me some time to see that what I had with Kate was real. She’s the woman for me, she’s the one that I love.”

Christopher exhales and we drive in silence for a while.

“Please, take me back to Kate’s, I have to see her.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“You think I don’t know that?” I shout. “Take me to Kate’s.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he yells as he hits the steering wheel. “You’ve fucked your relationship up with Kate, and now you’re hell-bent on getting arrested again. You’re all over the news, Elliot. Go home and sort your shit out. I am not in the mood for dealing with your mental fucking breakdown over a woman.”

“She isn’t just a woman,” I yell. “She’s the one.”

He huffs with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Now you discover that . . . after you’ve completely annihilated the relationship.” He shakes his head. “What a fucking idiot.”

“Shut. The. Hell. Up,” I scream.

We drive the rest of the way in silence and pull into the driveway. “Drop me off and go,” I snap.

“I wish I could,” he sneers. “I’ve got better things to do than babysit your ungrateful ass.”

“Then don’t.”

“I promised Jameson I would. That’s the only reason I’m here putting up with your tantrum. Go inside, and go to bed.”

He stops the car and I get out and slam the door hard, and march inside.

Fuck this day.

KATE

I sit on the couch with Daniel and Rebecca, horrified as we watch the news.

In breaking news, Elliot Miles, CEO of Miles Media, has been arrested and charged with assault and criminal damage after an altercation with a photographer this afternoon in Battersea Park.

Mr. Miles, who appeared to be in some kind of domestic incident with a mystery woman, turned on a bystander when he was being photographed.

He was apprehended and arrested at the scene.

The footage goes to Elliot holding me against my will and I’m screaming at him to let me go, then he turns and we see the photographer, and Elliot begins to chase him as he runs away.

I put my hand over my mouth as I watch in horror. “Oh no, who took this footage?”

I already knew it was bad . . . but it looks even worse.

Elliot catches him, breaks his camera and then the man says something to Elliot who then proceeds to beat him. I can be seen in the footage running away from the scene.

Daniel’s horrified eyes find mine.

I stay silent.

My phone buzzes on the coffee table and the name Elliot lights up the screen.

Tears fill my eyes.

“What’s going on?” Daniel demands; he reaches down and turns my phone off. “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” I snap. “It’s fine, he came back and told me he loved me, that was the fight we had.”

“He looks angry,” Daniel says.

I roll my eyes. I can’t imagine how dead Daniel would be if Elliot ever found out what happened last night between us in the darkness.

Not that I care, of course.

“He was.”

I lie on my bed in the darkness; my phone has been off all night.

He can’t be still arrested, he called me. What if I was his one phone call and I didn’t answer?

Stop it, stop thinking of him. He doesn’t think of you.

I turn my phone on.

Twenty-six missed calls . . . Elliot.

I close my eyes in regret and switch my phone back off.

“Kate,” I hear Daniel call from downstairs. “I think we’ve got another problem.”

“What?” I call.

“You better come and see this.”

I drag myself out of bed and walk downstairs to see Daniel still watching the news.

In a breaking news update, the mystery woman involved in the domestic incident today with Elliot Miles has been confirmed as Kate Landon, until recently an employee of Miles Media.

It has been alleged that Elliot Miles is involved in a sordid love triangle with Kate Landon and her partner, Daniel Stevens.

Landon, who lives with Stevens, was photographed with Miles in New York last week but has since returned to her home and partner. It is thought that Mr. Miles is upset with her returning to her partner, thus the altercation this afternoon in Battersea Park.

It flicks to photographs of me and Daniel holding hands and Daniel with his arm around me. A few of us arriving at various balls in different locations, each one strategically shot so that it looks like Daniel and I are together.

Then there are photos of me and Elliot in New York together last week, holding hands as we walked out of a restaurant. Another where he is kissing me in the car. Another of us in a shop and Elliot buying me lingerie. Another shot of me with Elizabeth Miles at our lunch date.

“Get fucked,” Daniel whispers in horror.

“What the hell?” I put my hands over my mouth.

It goes to a shot of our house. Our eyes meet. “Hang on a minute, how did they get that?” He slowly gets up and walks to the window and his face falls. “Shit.”

“What?” I run over and peer through the curtains to see a sea of photographers all set up on the pathway opposite our apartment. Cameras facing the house, waiting for their shot.

“Oh my God.” I put my head into my hands. “This is a disaster, what do we do now?”

He hands me his phone. “Call him and find out. He does own a media company, after all. Surely there’s a law about making up lies about people.”

I exhale heavily. “I don’t want to call him.”

“Have you got a better idea?” Daniel points at the window. “Asking him what to do in this situation is not taking him back, Kate.”

“You’re right. Ugh, fine. I’ll call him from my phone.” I head toward the stairs.

“Let me know what he says.”

“Okay.” I trudge up the stairs and pick up my phone, turn it on.

Thirty-six missed calls from Elliot.

I sit on the bed and hold the phone in my hands. I really don’t want to call him.

What is there to say?

My phone rings in my hand, causing me to jump and fumble with it. It’s him.

“Hello,” I answer.

“Kate . . . hi.” His voice is soft, cautious.

I stay silent, unsure what to say.

“I’m sorry about the press, I’ll handle it tomorrow.”

“How?” I ask. “How will you handle it, Elliot?”

“I don’t—” He cuts himself off.

“The love triangle . . . with pictures as proof.” I get a lump in my throat as shame overwhelms me.

He lets out an audible sigh. “Don’t cry, sweetheart, I’ll fix it.”

“If I could believe anything that comes out of your mouth, then maybe I’d believe you,” I spit. “You can’t fix this, Elliot.”

“I’m coming to get you.”

“You are not, there are fifty reporters parked out the front.”

“I’ll get Andrew to collect you. I’ll meet you at my apartment in town. I’m relocating there tomorrow anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to be followed to Enchanted Estate. I don’t want them knowing where I live.”

“These stories are lies. I’m not with Daniel,” I spit, except I accidently nearly was and I’m mortified.

“I know that.”

“But—”

“They don’t care,” he cuts me off. “Just stay there until Andrew arrives.”

“No. Nothing has changed, Elliot, I don’t want to see you.”

“We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to say.”

“I’ll come myself,” he splutters.

“And I will kick you out in front of the press. Do not come here, Elliot, I mean it.”

“Kate, that isn’t fair,” he snaps. “You know I need to see you, don’t hold me hostage to the reporters outside your house. I want to talk to you.”

I shake my head, disgusted. “It’s always about you . . . isn’t it, Elliot?” I whisper. “What you need, what’s best for you . . . your dream girl. What you want.”

“Enough,” he barks.

“Okay. Fine.” Exasperated, I hang up.

The phone rings immediately and I answer it. “Do not hang up on me.”

“Fuck you.” I hang up again.

It rings again. “What?” I cry. “What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“I have nothing to say.”

“Please.” His voice softens. “Baby . . . I need to see you. We can sort this media mess out, but we need to be together to do it.”

I screw up my face in tears. When his voice is soft like that, it reminds me of the man I care about.

“Kathryn,” he says sternly. “Let me send Andrew, and come and meet me at my apartment.”

I listen.

“At the very least it will get you out, they can’t follow you into my building, you’re safe there. Regardless of what happens with you and I, you need to leave your house or they will hound you to death and make up more lies.”

I close my eyes. “I don’t want—”

“I just want to talk, Kate. I promise.”

“But . . .”

“Pack a bag so they know you won’t be back soon. That way they will leave.”

I pace back and forth as I think, pull the curtains to the side and peer out at the crowded street.

Reporters are sitting on fold-up chairs and smoking cigarettes. Settled in for the night. I get a vision of them staying for weeks and accosting Daniel as he tries to go to work. This isn’t fair to Daniel or Rebecca.

Fuck.

He’s right, I need to get out of here, regardless. He’s the only one who can make that happen.

“Fine.”

“See you soon.”

I hang up and march downstairs.

“What happened?” Daniel asks as he sits up.

“Elliot is handling the press tomorrow, Andrew is picking me up. They won’t leave until I go.”

Daniel’s face falls. “So you’re just going to go to him? Just like that, he snaps his fingers and all is forgiven.”

“No, I’m not stupid. I’m getting the hell out of here and he’s the only way I can do it.”

Daniel rolls his eyes.

“Have you got a better idea, Daniel?” I cry. “Because if you do, please let me know it.” I throw my hands up in the air. “If I stay here, tomorrow morning they follow me wherever I go and make up more lies.”

He stares at me.

“Oh, and don’t forget, you are the boyfriend I’m supposedly cheating on, so expect them to follow you too.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “This is a fucking nightmare, Kate.”

“You think I don’t know that?” I cry.

Rebecca comes out of her room, half asleep. “What’s happening?”

“Daniel and I are in a relationship, and I’ve been sleeping with Elliot behind his back,” I tell her in frustration.

Rebecca scratches her head as she looks at us both. “You are?”

“No!” we both cry in unison.

“Oh.” She frowns. “What a relief, thank fuck.”

Daniel shakes his head. “Go back to bed,” he snaps.

“Okay, shut up then, will you both? I’m trying to sleep here.” She walks into her room and closes the door.

I run up the stairs to pack my suitcase and Daniel follows me. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” I throw my suitcase onto the bed; I already know what I’m doing but I don’t want to tell Daniel just yet, not until it’s done.

This is my decision, and mine alone; I don’t want anyone to cloud my judgment. After Daniel and I crossed the friendship line last night, I know I have to think on my own from here on in. I begin to pack clothes into my suitcase at speed, run into the bathroom and pack my toiletries. I throw in my shampoo and conditioner, hairdryer. I put my hands on my hips as I look around. I take my framed photographs of me and my parents and put them in my suitcase.

“How long are you going for?” He frowns.

“Until things die down.”

His eyes are wide. “How long will that be?”

“I don’t know. I’m going to stay in a hotel or something for a few days. I’ll call you when I know where I’m staying.”

“Okay.”

“Are you working tomorrow?” I ask.

“I think.” He frowns again. “Maybe . . . I might go to my parents’ for a few days too.”

“Alright.” My eyes hold his. “I’m so sorry to drag you into this.”

“Hey.” He smiles as he puts his arms around me. “It’s not your fault.” My eyes search his and he cups my face. “Just be careful with him . . . okay?” he whispers.

“He’d never hurt me.”

“He already has.”

I drop my head. “I know.”

My phone beeps with a text.

Kate, it’s Andrew.

I’m coming around the corner now.

Stay inside until I come to the door to get you.

Ask Daniel to stay out of sight.

I text back:

Okay, thanks.

“He’s nearly here, he said for you to stay out of sight.”

“Shit, okay. I’ll go to my room.” His eyes hold mine. “Be careful, babe.” He hugs me.

“Call you tomorrow. When are you going to go to your parents’?” I ask.

“First thing in the morning.”

“Okay.”

With one last look he disappears down the stairs. A sense of urgency fills me and I quickly text Brad.

Are you home?

Can I get some things dropped at your house?

A reply bounces back.

Yeah sure,

I’ve been waiting for you to call.

I’ve seen the news.

What the fuck is going on, Kate?

I shake my head.

A whole lot of lies,

I’m fine.

Fill you in tomorrow.

Love you.

X

A reply bounces back.

Love you too, see you soon.

X

Ten minutes later I hear a knock on the front door and I open it. Andrew smiles and walks in and closes the door behind him. “Hello Kathryn.”

“Hi.”

“Are you ready?”

I nod.

“I have security with me.”

My face falls.

“They will block the photographers and let us get to the car. I’m going to hold this umbrella up in front of you and you are going to put your head down and walk straight to the car. Do not look up, do not acknowledge anyone. We will both get into the backseat and security will drive us away.”

Nerves dance in my stomach. “Okay,” I whisper.

“Do you have a jacket with a hood?”

“Yes.”

“Put it on.”

I run up the stairs and whizz through my closet at full speed. My heart is hammering, I feel like I’m about to rob a bank or something. I put on my big jacket and walk back downstairs. “Ready.”

Andrew gives me a kind smile and lifts my hood up over my head—my scared eyes hold his. “Don’t worry, they’ll all disappear as soon as another scandal arrives. This will all be over soon.”

“I’m not in a relationship with my flatmate, Andrew.”

“I know, dear.” He takes my hand and opens the door just a little; two huge security guards stand at the edge of my porch. “Ready,” he calls.

“Ready.” They spread their legs wide as if preparing for battle.

Andrew opens the door and puts a black umbrella up, facing it toward the paparazzi who are running across the street, effectively blocking their view of me.

“Now,” he snaps. He pulls me by the hand. “Keep your head down.”

“Kate,” I hear them all cry as they clamber around us. “Miss Landon, how is your husband?”

A million questions are being screamed as I am whisked at speed along the pavement.

“Back off,” one of the security guards yells. He pushes a photographer hard in the chest and he falls onto his backside.

I begin to get jostled from side to side as they close in. “Run,” Andrew yells.

My heart is hammering in my chest, and we make it to the car and I dive into the backseat. Andrew climbs in behind me and the door slams shut.

The photographers all surround the car as they yell out to me, and the security guards jump in and one begins to drive. “You’re going to hit them,” I cry.

He doesn’t reply, and he doesn’t stop. He just drives straight through the middle of them and somehow, they part and let us through.

I look back at my apartment and sadness fills me; how the hell is Daniel going to get out? “Can you please go back and help my friend Daniel out tomorrow?”

Andrew nods. “Yes, of course.”

I wring my hands together nervously on my lap. “After you drop me at Elliot’s, can you deliver my suitcase to my brother’s house?”

“Yes, of course.”

I nod as adrenaline surges through my body like a freight train.

We fly through the streets of London and, for the first time, I understand why Elliot guards his privacy so stringently. Why he doesn’t give them an inch to work with.

This is an absolute fucking nightmare.

We drive into the underground parking lot at Elliot’s luxury apartment; the security gates close behind us and the car pulls up in front of the elevator. The guard parks the car and we all get out. “Thank you,” I whisper.

The burly guards walk over to the elevator. “I’m fine from here.” The guards ignore me and walk into the elevator. “What are you doing?” I ask as I look at them in turn.

“We’ve been instructed to deliver you in person, Miss Landon.”

I stare at them and Daniel’s words from when I first met Elliot Miles come back to me: he’s a powerful man and not someone I would mess with.

Suddenly I’m very aware that if Elliot Miles wants me delivered in person, I no longer have a choice. If I told them that I wasn’t going up to his apartment right now, they would make me go, regardless.

A million things are running at full speed through my head, but the blazing emotion is . . . loss of control.

We ride to the top floor in silence and the doors open into Elliot’s foyer, where he’s waiting. His eyes find mine and he smiles softly, as if relieved.

“Thank you,” he says to the guards; he opens the door to his apartment and I walk in.

I stand in the middle of his living room, determined to be strong.

This man has brought me to my knees for the last time.

Elliot’s eyes hold mine and he stares at me as if I’m a wild animal, about to run at any moment.

“I’m sorry about that,” he whispers.

I nod.

“Can I get you . . . anything to drink?”

“No.”

He puffs air into his cheeks as if lost for words. “Are you going to sit down?”

My eyes hold his and I just want to hurt him, for hurting me.

For putting me through this fucking bullshit.

“We need to talk, sweetheart,” he whispers.

“For God’s sake, Elliot,” I yell, “don’t call me that. It’s no longer a term of endearment, it makes me a laughing stock. It’s you, taking advantage of my affection. Do not ever fucking call me sweetheart again!”

His face falls. “I had to go . . . you know I had to go.”

I stare at him.

“You told me to go,” he cries. “I asked you what to do, and you told me to go.”

“I told you to follow your heart,” I scream.

He clenches his jaw, unsure what to say.

“How long have you known it was me? How long have you been lying to me?”

“You knew Edgar was me all along, you’ve been lying to me,” he says. “I told you who I was immediately.”

“How long?” I throw up my hands.

“You told me all about Edgar Moffatt the night when you were high on meds. You even showed me his messages on your phone.”

My face falls.

“Of all the people in the world, I couldn’t believe it. I told you the next day. You found out the very next day that Edgar was me,” he replies calmly.

“Why are you so honest with Pinkie?”

“Because she is easy to talk to . . . she doesn’t judge me. She is my friend.”

“So . . . you lie to me?”

“I knew I was talking to you, I never lied to you. Not once. I told you I was going to France to see her.”

“But you didn’t tell me,” I yell in outrage. “You knew I couldn’t say anything.”

“Because you were lying to me all along,” he cries. “And you fucking know it.”

I drop my head, this is pointless. I sit on the couch and he falls to the floor on his knees in front of me. “Nothing happened with her, I promise you. Not even a kiss.”

My eyes hold his.

Is that true?

“Kate.” He sighs sadly. “If I didn’t go, I would’ve always had that what if in the back of my mind.”

“I know. So . . .” I pause as I try to get the wording right in my head. “You spent the week with her?”

“No. We had the dinner and she made it quite clear that she wanted . . . more.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. Do I even want to hear this?

“All I could think about . . . was you,” he whispers. “I knew I’d done the wrong thing, but I also knew that I had to go to her and find out. I couldn’t make a future with someone and always have a doubt in the back of my mind. It was a double-edged sword, Kate. I did what I thought I had to do.”

I drop my head; don’t cry.

“There was no connection with her, nothing at all.” His eyes search mine. “I swear to you—”

“What if there was?” I interrupt. “What if there was a connection, Elliot? Where would I be now?”

“There wasn’t.”

“But there could have been.”

He exhales heavily. “You’re not listening to me.”

“And you didn’t answer my question. Where were you all week?” I ask.

“I told her that nothing was happening, that I had someone back home.”

“Something that you should have thought of before you went to her,” I cry, still outraged.

“I’m here now,” he yells as he holds his hands out wide. “I’m yours, Kate.”

Are you?

“I took the week to think,” he continues. “I needed to clear my head.”

My eyes rise to his and the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. “About what?”

“About life.”

“You mean . . . about falling for someone who’s average.”

He inhales sharply and I know I hit the nail on the head.

My eyes well with tears. “I’m not your fairy tale, Elliot,” I whisper.

“Yes, you are.” He stands. “It’s all bullshit. All along I thought I had to have signs. I thought that my gut would lead me to my soulmate.”

Oh . . . this man hurts me. I drop my head, unable to look at him.

“Kate, we hated each other for years.” He takes my face in his hand and he dusts his thumb back and forth over my bottom lip. “You can’t blame me for wondering if it was the real thing, or simply a physical attraction. You had to have had the same concerns.”

My heart drops.

Never once.

I force a nod; I just want this conversation over.

He falls to his knees in front of me again and looks up. “I love you.” He kisses me softly. “We can fix this. We can start again, and this time we know it’s the real thing. Nobody makes me feel like you do, Kate.”

More lies.

I pull back from his kiss. “I need a shower.”

He smiles as he holds me in his arms. “Yes, let’s take a shower.”

“Elliot, I’ve had the worst day in history and I’m tired. Can we talk about this tomorrow, please?”

“Okay.” He nods as he pulls me to my feet. “You’re right, we have all the time in the world.”

He leads me into the bathroom and turns the shower on. He slowly undresses me and I get in under the water.

I shower in a daze, somewhere between heartache and relief.

Now, I know.

I get out and he dries me with a towel as he showers me in kisses. “Thank God, you’re here,” he whispers. “I thought I lost you.”

I stare at him in a detached state: is he for real?

He thinks he can say a few pretty words and all is well between us?

I feel nothing . . . I’m dead inside. It’s like I’m talking to a stranger, one that I don’t even like.

Whatever we had is gone.

We get into his bed and our lips touch; his kiss deepens and I pull out of it. “Tomorrow, babe,” I whisper. “I’m not in the mood tonight. Honestly, I’m just too emotionally exhausted.”

“Okay.” He reaches over and turns the bedside light off and snuggles in behind me, his arms around me, his lips at my temple.

“I love you, Kate,” he whispers.

“I love you too,” I whisper back. We lie in the darkness, so physically close and yet I’ve never felt so alone.

If he knew me at all, he would know that.

A tear rolls down my face in the darkness; it’s hot and salty and feels a lot like betrayal.

Elliot Miles isn’t the only one who wanted a fairy-tale ending.

I did too.

And sadly, I know this isn’t it.