Elodie didn’t want to spoil her twin’s honeymoon, so left it another week before she called her about her breakup with Lincoln.
Elspeth was sympathetic and understanding of Elodie’s decision to leave, and offered whatever support she needed.
‘Have you seen or talked to him since?’
‘No. I think it’s best not to. A clean break is better.’
‘I guess so...’ There was more than a speck of doubt in Elspeth’s tone.
‘I know so,’ Elodie said with conviction. ‘He’s never really forgiven me for leaving him the first time. I’m annoyed at myself for even considering it might work between us. What was I thinking? I should’ve had better sense. He didn’t love me before. He doesn’t love me now. I have to accept he’s never going to.’
And the sooner she got on with her life without him, the better.
***
Lincoln came back to his London house after a month of working in New York. Well, trying to work... He’d come down with the same stomach virus Elodie had had in Scotland and it had only intensified his misery.
Like the last time Elodie had left, he’d given his housekeeper strict instructions to remove every trace of her from the house while he was away. But he’d more or less given up trying not to think about her. She was in his thoughts day and night, torturing him with memories of her touch, her smile, her playfulness. And coming home made it even worse.
His house was so empty without her. His life was so empty without her.
His coping strategy in life was always to keep busy. He worked hard, played hard. He didn’t have time for soft and fuzzy emotions. They didn’t belong in his world of tough decision-making, wheeling and dealing and keeping an eye out for the next big challenge.
Elodie was the biggest challenge of his life and he had let her go.
He had lost her not once, but twice.
Lincoln wanted Elodie back and he hated himself for it.
He should have moved on by now. He should have moved on seven years ago. But he was stuck on her.
He would have to get unstuck soon, or he would be living the rest of his life as a monk. The thought of sleeping with anyone else made his stomach churn. He hadn’t even looked at another woman while he was in New York. No one had turned his head or stopped his heart. The busiest city in the world hadn’t held its usual appeal. He hadn’t even enjoyed the deals he’d set up—in fact, the whole time he’d been bored. Empty and unfulfilled.
He wanted her. Only her.
Elodie was his nemesis—the one person who could make him feel things he had never wanted to feel for anyone. Was that love? Did he have this empty, aching feeling in his chest because he loved her and wanted her back so badly he couldn’t think straight?
He still loved her.
Acknowledging the truth of those words was like suddenly remembering a language he had taught himself not to speak for years. But now he wanted to shout the words out loud.
I love her. I love her. I love her.
Morag appeared from the kitchen to greet him. ‘How was your trip?’
‘Awful.’
‘I’m sorry...’ Her gaze slipped away from his. ‘Have you heard from Elodie?’
‘No.’
Even hearing her name twisted a knife into his gut. What if she didn’t believe him when he went to see her? He hadn’t exactly given her a reason to harbour any hope that he might change his mind. The thing was, he hadn’t changed his mind. His mind had finally revealed to him what he had been hiding from all these years.
He. Loved. Her.
‘There’s something I need to tell you about the last time Elodie left,’ Morag said. ‘I’m afraid you’re not going to like hearing it.’
Lincoln frowned. ‘Go on.’
Morag twisted her hands in front of her apron. ‘She was telling the truth when she told you she left her engagement ring on the hall table. I found it.’
‘Where is it now?’