The call went straight to voicemail. Where was she? She must have landed by now.
I’d never experienced loneliness before. It was almost the opposite to how I expected it to feel—time with nothing to do and no one to see had always been some holy grail, but now that I was here, it felt like a huge chasm that might swallow me up.
I stumbled out of the cab, my brain somehow disconnected from my limbs.
Had she not been accepted by the London universities where she’d applied? Or perhaps she had and was starting with one of those in January and Craig had just assumed it was Columbia. That must be it. There was no way Violet would just leave London without any intention of coming back and not tell me, even if I had missed our dinner on Saturday. Surely.
I’d been calling Violet every fifteen minutes since I’d returned to the hotel three hours ago. I had nothing else to do. I just wanted to hear her voice. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d held her. It must have been Saturday morning before we were meant to find out that she’d been accepted everywhere she applied for the MBA. Fuck, I should have set an alarm or something on my phone.
I went to the small bar in the corner of the room and poured myself a whisky. If I was going to be alone with no one to speak to and no work tomorrow, I could at least be drunk. Perhaps it would slow down my brain, fill up the emptiness that grew bigger inside me with every passing moment. Preparation for the trial had increasingly overtaken my life in the past few weeks. Apart from Saturday nights I’d been completely consumed, and this Saturday night the volume had spilled over.
As I drained my first glass of whiskey, my phone vibrated from where I’d left it on the bed. Violet’s name flashed on the screen, and I was so desperate to answer, so eager that she not give up before I accepted the call that I almost dropped the phone twice before managing to swipe the screen.
“Violet, are you okay?” I asked. An entirely ridiculous question, but I was just so pleased she’d called. For a few hours, I’d been worried she’d disappeared forever.
“Yeah, just got back to Scarlett and Ryder’s place. Darcy and I are staying here tonight before going up to Connecticut tomorrow.”
I held my breath as she spoke, wanting to hear every word, every nuance. “I’m glad you’re okay. I don’t feel like I’ve seen you.”
The sounds of movement and closing doors echoed down the line. “You’ve been busy,” she replied. “And I need to tell you something. I’m not coming back to chambers in the New Year. There didn’t seem to be any point.”
Craig had been right. She’d left. Left me for good.
“Any point?” I asked. Why hadn’t she said something before she left? “I thought you were doing your MBA in London. I thought . . .” I’d thought we were going to be together.
“I’m planning to move my start date on the MBA at Columbia to the beginning of the spring semester, so that means I’ll start school in just a few weeks. There didn’t seem to be any reason to delay things.”
The pressure bearing down on my chest threated to crack my ribs. “So you’re not coming back to London at all?” Surely I was misunderstanding. She couldn’t have just left.
“Like I said, I was able to move the start date.”
“You didn’t get into the London universities?” Was she upset at being rejected and had just fled?
“It doesn’t matter. I picked Columbia.”
I cleared my throat. I was finding it difficult to read her mood—her voice was light and carefree, but what she was saying seemed so catastrophic. If she were here in front of me, I’d be able to see what was going on beyond the words. “Okay.”
“I knew you’d understand.”
I wasn’t sure that I did. “So you’re ending things between us?”
“It’s a relief, right?” Her voice was breezy and light, as if she were giving me good news rather than saying we’d never see each other again. “You don’t have to worry about having to find time for me. Not that . . .”
Shit.
“Violet, I’m sorry about Saturday. I—”
“Don’t apologize. I know how work is for you. I get it comes first.”
I exhaled as she said it. It sounded so shallow and feeble, but it was true. It had always come first.
“Anyway, I didn’t want to throw you off your game. I know how important this trial is for you—hence the phone call.”
“Wait, what? That’s it?” I sat down on the chair by the desk.
“What do you want me to say?”
I wasn’t sure, but the situation we found ourselves in seemed so ludicrous. If she was angry with me then I wanted her to shout and scream. I wanted to work through this, past this. Hadn’t we shared something? Hadn’t we enjoyed the time we spent together? I cared about this woman and she was just calling to say goodbye as if we’d merely been coworkers? This couldn’t be the way things ended between us.
“It all seems so sudden. You’ve caught me a little off guard. I was hoping I’d see you before you left. I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about Saturday. You can’t just end things between us and run away.” I hadn’t told her that I’d never felt for any woman the way I felt about her. I’d thought we had time for all this.
She didn’t respond.
“So, that’s it?” I asked.
“I don’t see how it can be any other way,” she replied. “You have your work and—”
“I’ve said I’m sorry and you know I had the trial coming up—”
“It’s not about Saturday,” she said. “It’s about every Saturday. It’s about not wanting to be the girl who waits around for scraps of time that you’re prepared to toss me.”
I winced. She made it sound terrible. “I am really sorry. I never pretended to be perfect, and I’m so used to only having to worry about myself that it’s going to take me some time to adjust. That’s all.”
“I can’t let myself care for you, Alexander. I’m just about to get my life on track. I don’t want to be derailed again. I don’t want to allow myself to believe in someone only to find they are another person entirely. I’ve done that before.”
The bottom fell out from my stomach.
“At first we were just fucking and then we were dancing in Berkley Square and somewhere in the middle of that, my feelings changed and I started to want more. I changed. The more time I spent with you, the more you could hurt me, and I can’t let that happen. I won’t be let down again.”
I’d let Gabby down. And although I regretted what I had done, it hadn’t caused me actual pain. But now the agony coursed through my body. “I’m so sorry. You deserve better.” It was true. She was precious.
“You are a very special man. Someone who’s taught me what I want in my life. You’ve shown me what I deserve—a man who’s capable of putting me first.”
“It was a mistake, and I wish I could take it back. Can’t we at least try?”
“I can’t, Alexander. I’m in too deep; it hurts too much already.”
I had no response. I didn’t want to hurt her—it was the last thing I wanted.