jacket and withdrawing a sheaf of papers, which he tossed onto the table in front of her. ‘It’s a contract I had drawn up earlier today which agrees to a partnership with your company.’
She stared at it in shock for a moment before dragging her gaze back to his.
‘Caleb, thank you—’
But, before she could finish her sentence, he cut her off. ‘My colleagues will be handling it from here so we won’t need to have any more contact. I hope that makes you happy.’
She glared at him, her heart thumping against her chest and her jaw tight with frustration. ‘Don’t be ridiculous—of course it doesn’t make me happy to not have any more contact with you!’
He huffed out a disdainful laugh, the expression in his eyes hauntingly distant, then without another word he went to stand up.
‘Please, Caleb, stay,’ she said desperately, reaching out a hand in an attempt to stall him. ‘We need to talk more about this.’
‘There’s nothing left to say,’ he stated coldly, brushing away her attempt to touch him and standing up, and before she could utter another word he turned and walked swiftly away from the table without looking back.
Elena sat there, numb with shock, battling down a painful ache deep inside her, afraid that once she let it rise to the surface she wouldn’t be able to stop the tears that would inevitably come with it.
Everything might have just gone to hell but there was no way she was going to blub in the middle of a restaurant.
Gesturing to a passing waiter, she asked him to bring the bill for the champagne that she’d ordered and that neither of them had touched. She paid with her credit card, her movements jerky with anguish, then got up shakily and brushed herself down, setting back her shoulders before walking out of there, hyper-aware of the fascinated looks she was getting from the other diners.
Dumped on Valentine’s night. It didn’t get much more humiliating than that.
Once outside, she walked quickly down a side alley, away from prying eyes, and leant against the wall, burying her face in her hands.
But she refused to let herself cry.
She’d known, of course, on some subconscious level that Caleb had been lying about getting his memory back—that he’d been swept up in the excitement of closing the deal with the Americans and had wanted to celebrate with her the best way he knew how. And, to her shame, she’d let him, pretending to herself she believed that he remembered her even though he’d not remotely reacted in the way she’d been expecting.
Because she’d wanted him so badly she’d ached with longing.
The truth was, she’d been utterly selfish. She had taken advantage of his memory loss after the accident, not admitting it to herself at the time, but hoping—praying—it would never come back.
She’d brought all this on herself.
Just like she’d done fifteen years ago.
Caleb had trusted her implicitly then too, so much so he’d opened himself up to her—the first person he’d ever done that with after enduring such a punishing and isolated childhood—and she’d thrown his love and trust back in his face, deeming it worthless.
Then she’d hidden, like a coward, avoiding him at every turn until he’d been forced to come to her dorm room and practically break down the door to speak to her. She’d been afraid to face his disappointment in her so had put up a wall of ice to protect herself, telling him she’d made a mistake, he was too wild, too unpredictable for her, they could never be happy, not in the long run. She needed someone more stable, like Jimmy. He’d looked at her as if his world had just crashed in around him, before turning and walking away.
And that had been the last time he’d ever spoken to her. From that point on he’d acted as if she didn’t exist. He’d looked through her as if she was nothing—a waste of space.
And she’d known deep down that she’d deserved it.
He’d practically gone to ground after that, skipping the lectures where she’d normally see him and never seeming to be at his dorm room when she dropped in, hoping to catch him and apologise and explain her horrible behaviour. And then he’d gone back to Spain as soon as the last lecture had finished, pushing past her when she’d tried to talk to him as if she meant nothing to him any more.
It had left an aching hole in her that had never closed over, even fifteen years later.
Because he’d been the love of her life.
It had tormented her more than she’d wanted to admit to herself over the years, chipping away at her self-respect, causing her to find fault in every man she’d dated, leaving her to wonder whether she’d ever be happy in a relationship again.
Until now.
But just when she’d thought she’d paid her dues and things were finally good between them again she’d lost him all over again.
CALEB MARCHED INTO his apartment, slamming the front door so hard behind him the angry sound of it reverberated around the space for a good few seconds.
How could he have let this happen? He’d known there was something strange going on but he’d blamed it on his memory loss instead of looking harder at the woman who had appeared out of nowhere like a ray of sunshine on a dark day.
Slumping onto the sofa, he winced in pain as his cracked rib reminded him that he’d been weakened by the accident in more ways than one.
But then hadn’t he known, deep down, that there was more to her story than she was telling him and he’d let himself fall for her anyway?
Because he had—hard and intensely. The thought of being with her had consumed him over the last few days, just like it had when he was younger. He knew why he’d not wanted to look too closely at what was going on. It was because he’d wanted her to be genuinely interested in exploring a relationship with him—wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.
So he’d allowed himself to trust her, to begin to care about her—no, who was he kidding, he’d fallen in love with her and she’d used that to get what she wanted from him.
Once again she’d played him for a fool.
He felt as though his heart had been ripped from his chest. All that emotion that had been building inside him from the moment he’d seen her again swelled to an almost unbearable size, closing his throat, crushing his lungs, filling his head with unbearable pain.
No doubt she was already at the airport, ready to head home, happy in the knowledge that she’d achieved her objective here: to get him to sell her his battery, no matter what she’d had to do to get it.
Anger flashed through him, propelling him off the sofa and towards his bedroom where her things were still hanging in his wardrobe and sitting on his shelves.
Well, he wanted them gone. He didn’t want a trace of her left
