The home was empty when Salvador dropped me off—Mary Alice and Valerie should have been manning the reception as his grandchildren died in flames. There can be questions, there can be police, there can be the ungodly mess of figuring out which granddaughter had truly died within the flames, and it was an excessive amount of for me to even contemplate. I needed to run away, to by no means take into consideration this appalling tragedy that I had been instrumental in bringing about.

Ian would by no means forgive me, which was all proper since I might by no means forgive myself. If solely I hadn’t listened to Bella’s blandishments. If solely I’d seen by her floor allure to the actual hazard beneath it. If solely…

Chapter Twenty-Two

The following few days handed in a blur. The reality got here out, because it was certain to, however nobody had any explicit curiosity in speaking to me after my preliminary interview with the police.

Ian was encased in ice. He confirmed no grief, no misery concerning the horrendous scandal that spilled over us regardless of Mary Alice’s finest efforts to cease the gossip, and he did his finest to maintain from taking a look at me, speaking to me. I didn’t blame him—this was all my fault.

After which he was gone, disappearing from the villa and not using a phrase to anybody, and I noticed there was lastly nobody to cease me. I may go now, and that was what Ian would need, to see the final of my deceitful, mendacity ass.

I left within the farm truck, leaving all of Bella’s garments behind. Mary Alice agreed she would see them donated to the correct charity, and I lastly left Mariposa for the final time, with out inexperienced contact lenses or completely curled hair or heavy make-up. I used to be simply me, Kitty, with out all of the artifice. I might by no means be Bella once more.

My first cease was Mr. Fergell’s workplace on the best way to the airport. He spent your entire time viewing me with robust disapproval till I defined to him what I needed to do with the cash.

“Half to Ian and Mariposa, the opposite half to be divided between Mary Alice and Valerie,” he’d repeated in one thing near a harrumph. “What about you?”

“I don’t need something.”

“You’ll change your thoughts,” he warned.

“No, I received’t.” I didn’t need Granda’s cash, I didn’t need any extra ties to Mariposa. I didn’t deserve it. I used to be letting go within the fairest attainable approach. Ian would have the home, the farms and groves and vineyards, and sufficient cash to maintain it in good coronary heart for many years to return. In some way, I’d work out what was finest for me.

I used to be carrying a sundress and sandals—garments I’d bought for myself—and will solely hope New Hampshire was a minimum of just a little hotter than regular, although why I used to be going there was a query. The funding for my analysis undertaking had run out, I had no place to stay, and God solely knew what Bella had carried out with my growing older Subaru and all of the detritus of my life. I didn’t know and I didn’t care. I solely knew that I couldn’t spend one other day ready for Ian to return again to me after I knew he by no means would.

I used to be in love with him, and there was nothing I may do about it. I’d lied, though he’d at all times identified it was a lie. I’d cheated, and he’d misplaced an important particular person in his life. If I simply hadn’t been blinded by Bella’s blandishments, Marcus would nonetheless be alive, and Ian knew it. It was no marvel Ian couldn’t deliver himself to have a look at me. I felt like a whipped canine, and all I may do was run house and conceal.

I simply managed to get the second to final spot on the small commuter aircraft that might take me to Madrid and transatlantic flights, and I settled into my seat, looking over the bleached white villages that dotted the hills. I might by no means come right here once more, and a quiet pang crammed my coronary heart to affix with the gut-wrenching ache of dropping Ian. Not that I’d ever actually had him. This was the house of my coronary heart and at all times had been, however that point had handed. Ian was my coronary heart, however he was gone as properly.

After all, with my present run of unhealthy luck, the aircraft had mechanical hassle, leaving us sitting on the runway within the blinding solar for an hour and a half till they lastly cancelled the flight. The following one would depart in 4 hours—4 hours to doubt my decisions, 4 hours to vary my thoughts, 4 hours to sit down in a nook and silently weep. I’d survived worse.

This time after I walked down the hallway within the terminal, there have been no males salivating on the sight of me, no ladies casting jealous glances my approach. In my sundress and sandals and lengthy braided hair, I used to be simply one other vacationer, not the princess of Mariposa. It will have felt good if I wasn’t so completely gutted.

I went again by safety, heading towards the gate, after I noticed him, leaning towards the wall, nonetheless in work garments, the chambray shirt rolled as much as reveal robust forearms, his darkish hair tumbled over his brow as he watched me strategy, no expression to provide me a touch of what he was pondering.

I needed to show and run, I needed to run into his arms.

I didn’t have a alternative. He straightened up, crossed the world separating us and easily tossed me over his shoulder earlier than he strode to the doorway of the tiny airport.

“Put me down!” I demanded, beating at his again. My small carry-on was deserted, however I managed to carry on to my purse at the same time as I banged away at him, kicking and struggling.

A pointy, stinging slap on my rear did nothing to quiet my outrage. What the hell did he assume he was doing? Folks had been watching us with amusement and a scattering of applause, and I pounded at his again.

The solar was sensible overhead as we got here out of the airport, however he made no effort to set me down, simply saved carrying me over to the identical damned farm truck he’d picked me up in. Sliding me off his shoulder, he pushed me again towards it, glowering at me.

“The place did you assume you had been going?” he demanded.

“Getting out of right here!” I shot again. “I don’t belong right here, no one needs me right here, and I…”

“Bullshit! You’re operating away.”

I didn’t reply that—it was apparent that I used to be. “Why are you right here?”

“Why do you assume? I got here after you. I assumed I used to be going to need to fly to Madrid to meet up with you.”

“Why?”

He made an impatient sound. “Don’t play video games with me. You already know why.”

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