Chapter Forty-eight

Ava

I shouldn’t have said that, Ava thought, but when he laughed, the tension that had been building between them began to disappear like the tea in her cup, which she was hiding behind. And she hadn’t told him the most important thing.

He held up his hands in surrender. ‘I admit, I have been very high-maintenance.’

They both smiled. ‘To be fair,’ she said, ‘only when you’re being knocked unconscious and refuse to remember you know me. And in your defence, I was driving.’

She would have taken that workload any day. She loved him and she was terrified of this not going anywhere if he didn’t remember. But she wasn’t telling him that. She needed to see if he’d thought about a future with her even if he didn’t remember what had gone before.

‘Do you still have any expectations, Ava?’ He ruined her set-up. Damn. He got in first.

She hadn’t mentioned the proposal. Technically he hadn’t asked, and she’d decided she wasn’t going to risk him feeling trapped if she told him.

‘I’m learning not to have expectations, Zac.’ She gave him a level stare. ‘But that’s not my question to answer. It’s yours. I’ve put myself out there, told you how it was. Now you tell me what you think.’ Did he feel enough for her to stay and try again?

‘Fair enough.’ They stared at each other across the table and the tension rose again.

The waiter arrived, unasked, with fresh tea for Ava, which impressed her because she’d been trying to squeeze more out of the empty pot and the idea of having a whole new array of things to use to avoid his eyes was a great relief.

‘Would you like more coffee, sir?’

‘No, thank you.’ He didn’t take his eyes off Ava and she could feel the tempo of her heart increasing like she was running down a hill and couldn’t stop. She did hope there wasn’t a brick wall at the bottom of this hill. But she would live if she hit it.

The waiter left and the silence stretched.

Finally, he spoke. ‘Thank you. You’ve been very open and honest. And all I can say is if I gave you the impression that we had a long-term possibility then I’m sorry. Maybe I had a madness that made me ignore the reality of any sort of relationship between you and me, but you belong here.’ He spread his hands helplessly. ‘Long distance, different worlds …’ He looked as unhappy as she felt. ‘Maybe I was ignoring the truth.’

She needed him to say it out loud so she could stop this false hope that was killing her. ‘And what is that truth, Zac?’

‘I think you’d be much better off without me.’

Bang. She wished now she hadn’t asked as agony sliced through her and she concentrated fiercely on hiding it. Running downhill into a brick wall could not have been more painful. Get yourself out of here, Ava.

She rose from her seat. ‘Thank you for being honest. I wish you well,’ she said: no inflection, no subliminal message, just a pleasantry. ‘Goodbye, Zac.’