A Fragile Heart (BBW Billionaire Light Romance) (11 page)

She pulled the duvet over her head and cried herself to sleep, relieved that Josh had still not appeared and glad to be alone.

She woke again in the early hours, still not quite daylight, and went to the tiny bathroom to take another two tablets. She caught a glimpse of her pale face, shadowed eyes and wild hair in the mirror. Against her better judgement she found the rest of the wine and drank it down. Feeling slightly shaky she tumbled back into bed. There was nothing to get up for; she would sleep for the rest of the morning.

§

Elena was woken by a loud noise coming from the living area of the flat. She took a few moments to take in her surroundings and realised that someone was hammering on the locked door. Josh must have forgotten his keys again. She stumbled from bed, still sleepy and rumpled in her old pajamas, and opened the door.

Guy pushed his way into the room, slamming the door behind him and leaning back against it, his arms folded tightly against his chest and anger radiating in waves from him.

“What the hell are you doing Elena?” he shouted, his eyes blazing.

She stood perfectly still, shocked to see him there and shaken by his obvious rage.

“What am I doing?” she said, trying desperately to keep her voice level. “I'm back home where I belong, not being deceived by you with your money and presents.” She paused. “Or being kidnapped and questioned by your mistress,” she added for good measure.

“I’ve spoken to Chiara,” he said gravely. “Why did you leave like that? No note or phone message. I was worried. I thought something had happened to you.”

“Something did happen to me! I was snatched from the street and frightened half to death, then told about a situation I could hardly believe in. I just wanted to get away.”

Guy remained by the closed door and Elena was dismayed to see him begin to cast his steely gaze around the tiny, scruffy flat. What a contrast it must appear to his usual lifestyle.

“And you didn't think to let me know you were coming back to England? Reception said you had taken a taxi to Naples Museum. I had no idea what had happened.” Guy was still furious, and Elena could tell that he was struggling to control himself.

“You didn't tell me about Chiara,” she replied. “What could I be expected to think after that?”

“I was going to tell you everything after the holiday,” he said. “To choose the right time. But we were enjoying ourselves, and I wanted it to go on, I didn’t want to spoil things.”

“There wouldn't
be
a right time to tell me something like that,” she snapped. “You kept it hidden. You didn't let me into your life.”
 

Elena sighed. Why was she even being expected to defend herself about running away when she wasn’t at fault?

Guy moved away from the door, taking a step towards her into the small room. He held her arms, looking deep into her eyes, his own gaze so intense, so searching. Feeling his firm grasp, Elena struggled to control herself. Because she wanted to lean against him and feel his strong muscular arms slip around her once more, but at the same time she was still so confused, so damn angry with him.

“And did you let me into your life, Elena?” he said softly. “Be honest. You’ve never let me come here, never introduced me to your brother or talked to me about meeting your family. You haven't mentioned me to any of your friends, as though I'm some kind of dirty secret. And you wouldn't come to my home either although I tried. What is it? Are you afraid of my money? You don't trust me and you don't trust yourself.”

It was too close to the truth. Elena shrugged out of his grip and pushed him hard in the chest, forcing back towards the door.
 

“It's over,” she said, choking over the words, afraid that the tears that were welling inside were going to escape. She wouldn't cry in front of him; she needed to be alone. “Please go now.”

“It’s your decision,” Guy said coldly.
 

He turned and pulled the door open, strode through it, slamming it behind him. The sound echoed through the empty flat as Elena stumbled to the cluttered sofa and sank down onto it.

It’s your decision
.
 

The words echoed around Elena’s head as she began once more to sob.

It was over.

§

For the next two days Elena kept to herself, like a wounded animal licking its wounds. She tidied the flat and made a single short trip to the corner shop for essentials. She drank wine and watched TV, going to bed early and waking up several times during the night.
 

Again and again she turned over that last encounter with Guy in her mind: he’d come to find her, but was it just because he was so angry with her for running away, or had he really wanted to discuss the situation with her, and try to make amends?
 

Whatever the truth, she’d told him it was over and that she wanted no further contact from him.

Whenever she tried to phone, his phone was switched off. It would’ve been good to have company, even though he’d probably mention that he had warned her everything would go disastrously wrong. Still, she would like to know where he was, at least. There had been some talk of going with the band to some summer festivals, so that was almost certainly the answer.
 

She longed to talk to someone she could open up to, and after deliberating for a while she finally rang Yvonne, who agreed to come round for a talk that evening.
 

 
Elena handed out the glasses of wine as they settled themselves down on the sofa. Yvonne looked searchingly at her.

“You look as though you’re in shock or something. What's all this about?”

Elena knew she mustn’t hold anything back, and so she poured out her heart to her friend. She started by disclosing that Guy had been the donor of the large amount of money for the charity, then how they had met, gone on sight-seeing trips on Sundays when he wasn’t working, and then finally told her about the fantastic holiday.
 

Yvonne's eyes widened as Elena described the luxury yacht, and the hotel in Sorrento. She talked about Guy's background and his fabulous wealth, and then she came to the difficult part, the part about Chiara, but held nothing back.
 

Then to the end: how Guy had come to the flat, their argument, and how she’d pushed him away, telling him it was over.

Yvonne sat back, saying nothing, seemingly stunned by the revelations. She took some time to think things over before asking if Elena wanted her opinion there and then, or would she rather not talk any more about the problem that evening.
 

Elena trusted her friend. She knew that Yvonne was mature enough to consider things from all angles and not pull any punches when she gave her advice.

“Yes please,” she replied. “Just tell me what you think, right now. I'm all over the place, going over and over it in my head trying to pull myself together again.”
 

“Well,” Yvonne spoke in a soft, measured tone, nothing dramatic, just plain common sense. “Let me ask a question first, how old is Guy?”

“Late thirties? Almost forty I think.”

“What you have to remember, Elena, is that he’s had a very difficult time in the past. His mother deserted him, his father neglected him, and his wife aborted their child without telling him. No wonder he’s found relationships difficult and turned to working all the time as some sort of escape from real life. Then, he meets this woman, Chiara, some years ago. They have a bond as she’s also struggling with life and financial difficulties. He helps her out with investment, supports her mother and her child, and in return she travels and goes to functions with him as his partner. And occasionally they sleep together. You can see how it all came about; they needed each other. It seems to be quite an adult, understandable arrangement on both sides. Something that worked for them. I have to say, he sounds like a very generous person.”

Elena listened in silence. Put like that it sounded so reasonable.
But what about me
, she wanted to ask.
Where do I stand in this, What about my feelings?

"Then, out of the blue,” Yvonne continued, “he meets you. A defensive, easily-hurt person, who’s also uncomfortable with her looks and size. You know it’s true, Elena. He must’ve felt that he needed to handle things very slowly and carefully if he was to find the right time to tell you about his mistress, and also to tell her about you. If he says he was going to talk about Chiara after the holiday, then I’d believe him. It's a difficult matter under any circumstances, and you have to admit, however you found out, you would’ve taken it badly ...”

Elena had to accept that her friend was just speaking frankly. After all, it was the only way Yvonne knew how to be.

“The only important thing to ask yourself is, are you still in love with him and did you really mean to finish it when you told him to go?”

Elena admitted that she was broken hearted about how everything had turned out and that she was still in love with Guy, however, she didn't feel that she could go back to him and ask to try again either. It was still too raw, and she just couldn't cope if he turned her down.

“Well then,” Yvonne said. “If you want my advice, sit back, do nothing at the moment and try to calm down. But if he does contact you again, for goodness sake don't mess it up. If you want this man, he comes with a lot of baggage. You’d have to accept that. Come back to work next week, and try to get some normality back into your life.”
 

Yvonne sat back and finished her wine. How glad Elena was that she had such a good friend who would listen to all her problems and just offer advice without judging her.

§

That night she tried again to ring Josh, but his phone was still switched off. She rang her parents, putting on a cheerful front in answer to their questions, then asking whether Josh had been in contact. But they’d not heard from him for over two weeks, they said.
 

She begun to worry slightly, and searched the flat to see exactly what he’d taken. His guitar and rucksack were missing, but strangely most of his clothes still appeared to be lying around in casual heaps. She recalled with apprehension his disappearance when he dropped out of uni, but tried to put it to the back of her mind. After all, she had enough of her own problems to worry about, without trying to keep track of her young brother, too.

It was another two days and several more attempted telephone calls before Elena finally came to the conclusion that Josh was missing again.

Chapter Eighteen

For the next week Elena tried to pull her life back together. She busied herself at work, and Yvonne suggested she might like to help with learning how to analyse the statistics. Elena knew that her boss was trying to keep her occupied to help keep her mind off her problems and she was grateful. No more was said about Guy, and she was glad Yvonne didn’t ask her how things were.

After work, a couple of evenings, she joined her colleagues at the wine bar; it was better than going straight home to an empty flat.

But the thought of Josh and where he might be was still a worm of anxiety niggling at the back of her mind.
 

She went carefully through all his possessions, emptying pockets and searching beneath the sofa where he usually slept for any clues. She found a few tickets to gigs, bus tickets and, more worryingly, his credit card. Surely he would have taken it with him? She emptied out a drawer in the kitchen which she’d allocated as a space for Josh to put any of his personal papers, but found only half used packets of cigarette papers, flyers for gigs and a card from the restaurant where he’d worked casual hours.

She made up her mind to do a bit of detective work, and on the way home from work she dropped by at the little Greek restaurant which had employed Josh for casual washing up work, to ask if he had been there lately. The manager seemed quite concerned.

“No, he supposed to work here, but not come,” he supplied.

“When did you last see him?” Elena asked, anxious to try and work out just how long Josh had been gone.
   

“About two weeks ago
 
... Wait, I ask wife.”
 

He disappeared into the kitchen at the back of the café for a moment.

“Did not come for nearly two weeks,” he said when he returned.

Elena thanked them and made her way back home.
He could just be away at a music festival
, she thought, but still, she had an uneasy feeling about his absence.
 

She looked again at all the flyers and posters she’d found advertising gigs in local pubs. She would go to each place and ask about Josh or any members of the band he played with, she decided. Surely someone must have seen him ...

It was in the third pub that Elena struck lucky. The young man behind the bar didn't recognise Josh's name but he said that the band – The Moon Dogs – had performed there about a month ago.

“They were good,” he smiled. “Really rough sounding, but very different.”

“Did you speak to any of them?” Elena asked. “Did they say they were going away for a festival?”

“No” The barman took a cloth and wiped the top of the bar. It was quiet in the pub and he turned his back on her to tidy away the clean glasses.
 

“Wait though,” he said, turning back to face Elena as a new memory surfaced. “I did sort of recognise one of the guys, maybe? Pete. If it was him, he drinks in The Lamb sometimes, up Fulham Road."

“Thanks,” Elena said, feeling a glimmer of hope at last. She turned to go.

“No good going this early,” he added. “The place doesn't liven up until about ten.”

§

She took a taxi to The Lamb that evening, and was there for just after ten. The place was obviously popular and Elena ordered a fruit juice, and chose a seat tucked into a corner where she had a good view of the door. She’d taken a newspaper and spread it out on the table in front of her. The last thing she wanted was for someone to start up a conversation; she just wanted to keep an eye on the door to see who came and went.