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And the stupid thing was that she didn’t care about anyone noticing them. Didn’t even care about the paparazzi. Had never cared less, in fact. Her eyes snagged on the dazzling diamond and sapphires on her finger and everything inside her rolled sideways as if she herself were about to capsize. Yesterday, and this morning, she had felt so close to him, so safe, so known. And she had thought she knew him. Had thought that things had shifted, changed in some intangible but fundamental way—
‘Lily—’
The gentleness in his voice was so unexpected that she was suddenly close to tears. ‘Don’t do that. Don’t say my name,’ she said shakily.
The sun had slipped behind a cloud so that his eyes looked like bruises. Watching his face stiffen, she wished she could turn back time to when it was just the two of them in this fantasy he’d created.
She sat down, turning her face away from him. It didn’t matter that he had brought her to her safe place, or that he had shown her the man beneath the teasing smile and the careless manner. The beautiful, bright day was ruined. Their lies had sent the sun scurrying behind the clouds.
Quite suddenly she wished she had fallen into the river and sunk to the mud at the bottom, where there was no sunlight and Trip’s smile would be a blurred, indistinct memory.
They made their way back to the house in silence, but as soon as they were inside the bedroom, Trip rounded on her.
‘What is going on? Lily, what’s the matter? You can’t just give me the silent treatment. Talk to me.’
Trip’s flawless face was creased into a frown that was a shock after days of light and laughter.
‘You didn’t propose,’ she said quietly.
His frown deepened, his frustration palpable now beneath his confusion. ‘Because it would have felt weird. It wasn’t that kind of engagement. But that doesn’t suddenly mean something just because we met some couple on a punt who did the whole down on bended knee schtick.’
A couple who were in love, she thought dully. A couple who weren’t performing a part.
His expression shifted, softened. ‘Look, I’m sorry I didn’t propose.’ He took a step closer, reaching for her hand. His handsome face so familiar, so necessary now, and it would be so easy to just accept his apology.
‘But you have a ring and if you want we can post some pictures to show it off. And I can get Lazlo to send over some venue ideas for the ceremony.’
It was like waking from a dream. He was talking to her as if she were a colleague or a client. It jarred, unfairly so, because Trip hadn’t romanced her into this relationship. For him, their engagement was a pragmatic, spur-of-the-moment solution to a business dilemma. There was never any need for him to personalize his love, because he didn’t love her.
But in her newly loved-up state, she had let herself forget that he had needed a wife, needed her to improve his image.
Or had she chosen to ignore it? She pressed her hand against her chest to quell the queasiness that question provoked. Because she had done that once before with appalling consequences.
Better to face it head-on.
‘It doesn’t matter now,’ she said slowly.
His eyes narrowed on her face. ‘What do you mean?’
She flinched inwardly, but continued. ‘In Italy you said that there was an agenda, a right time to announce our engagement. I think this would be the perfect time to announce our separation.’
He was looking at her as if she were an imposter. Someone playing the part of Lily Dempsey. ‘I don’t understand. Why are you talking about separating? We haven’t even picked a date for the wedding. Look, it’s going to be fine, Lily. Everyone is going to love you and when they see us together they won’t suspect a thing. They’ll all think we’re madly in love—’
For a few seconds she remembered how he had comforted her while she’d cried. How tightly he had held her hand as he’d told her about his father’s affair. She thought she would throw up if she asked the question, but she wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.
‘But we’re not, are we?’ She took a deep breath. ‘Or, rather, you’re not.’
Heart hammering against her ribs, she waited, watching as he ran a hand across his face. Hiding his eyes, she thought, her stomach lurching as she saw the implication of her words hit home. He looked stunned, and even before he started to speak, she knew that her feelings were not and would never be returned.
And it hurt. It hurt so badly she wanted to curl into a ball around the ache in her chest. She felt small and foolish, as she had so many times in her life.
He was shaking his head. ‘I don’t—I’m not—’
His stumbling, uncharacteristic inarticulateness told her everything she needed to know.
She felt as if she were slipping underwater. ‘Of course.’ Her nails bit into the palms of her hands. Just hours earlier she had felt cocooned and needed at the heart of his life, but she wasn’t in his heart. He didn’t want a real relationship and she couldn’t be in this fake one. Couldn’t be this diminished version of herself, not even for Trip. ‘Can I leave it to you to make a statement? You know how to explain things.’
He moved to stand by the window and she took a step closer to the door, both of them moving like actors blocking a performance. Because that was what they were. That was all they could ever be, and accepting that gave her the willpower to stay strong.
