38. Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Eight
W illow fled from the shop, ignoring the gaping customers in the courtyard and Amber’s call to wait. She needed to be alone. The streets heaved with chattering tourists, lingering outside shops admiring the produce on sale, eating chips or ice cream. She ignored the tuts as she weaved through them, reluctant to lose any speed. Humiliation burned her skin, crushing any joy and empowerment she’d experienced earlier. How had her life escalated out of control within minutes? One minute she was making tea, bursting to tell Rosa about her night with Nate, the gherkin bauble she’d found nestled in a box next to her breakfast tea with the promise of many Christmas trees to come, confirming his proclamation of love he said as he left, and the next she was overhearing frantic whispers between her employees, Old Percy flickering out of focus with the tension building in the air, and Mrs Marley wringing her hands in anticipation. Amber’s face reflected her own horror when she saw the Facebook post. Nate was getting married. No wonder he couldn’t visit her at the weekend, he was too busy walking down the aisle.
She ran up the steps towards the Abbey, past the Celtic cross, until she reached the top to sneak over the crumbling wall to the edge of the headland. The sea crashing beneath her matched her mood.
‘Oh Lou, I’ve made such a fool of myself. I trusted him with everything. Everything. Told him things only you and Marian know. Things I can’t even tell Glenn, and now I discover he’s a liar. A snake. Charlatan and a cheat. I’m such an idiot.’
Tears cascaded down her face and, trembling in the North Sea breeze, she wrapped her arms around herself. How could she have got it so wrong? Yesterday he declared he loved her and only that morning did he hint at their future together. He gave her a gherkin for their future trees. Yet, it was all a sham. She was just a final fling before he tied the knot. Forget being in York for business. He was probably on his stag night and now laughing with his friends at her expense.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket over and over like an incessant bluebottle demanding attention. She checked. Several missed calls from Amber, Glenn, and a text from him saying how glad he was she was home safe and would see her soon. No chance. Twice bitten, she never wanted to see him again. One click deleted the text, and she wished her memories were as easy to remove.
If only she were tech savvy like Amber, none of this would have happened. She’d have revealed his cheating ways at Christmas. As tempting as joining Facebook was to see the scale of the deception herself, there was no need; the images from Amber’s phone were tattooed in her mind. His arm draped over another woman’s shoulders at a Christmas Ball days before they met. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her smile revealed perfect white teeth. As a professional lawyer, according to her biography, she was everything Willow wasn’t. There was no competition and his loyalty was obvious as Rebecca McLeod proudly declared in less than forty-eight hours she’d be Mrs N. Reynolds. An enormous diamond shone on her finger in the classic black-and-white shot. Her friends’ excited comments about how they were the perfect match seared Willow’s heart further. Was this what a heart attack felt like? A clenching tightening in the chest and inability to breathe. She wanted the ache to stop, to rip her heart out. It wasn’t fair. She berated herself for being with him, her instincts failing her at a crucial time. Again. What was the point of having witch senses if they didn’t prevent heartbreak? Her knees buckled, and she fell forward, her body refusing to hold itself up. A hand pulled her back from the cliff edge and strong tanned arms embraced her. Turning, she sank and sobbed into Glenn’s shirt.
‘It’s okay. Hush now. I’ve got you, Willow.’
***
‘Next time you have your heart broken, please can you retreat to somewhere less dangerous? It would’ve spoilt quite a few holidays if the tourists witnessed you slam headfirst into the rocks below.’
‘I won’t have my heart broken again. I’m done with men. Love is not for me.’ Willow stared into the steaming cup of Yorkshire tea. With luck and a nod of recognition from the owner, Willow and Glenn had been guided to the corner of a busy café. The hubbub of the other customers drowned out any conversation. ‘I just didn’t see that coming. I loved him and he said he felt the same.’
‘I saw the spark between you at Christmas. I never suspected him to be a cheat. Maybe there’s been a misunderstanding.’
‘I saw the photo, Glenn, and the post. He’s getting married tomorrow. I was just his final notch on his bedpost. What a fool.’
‘He had us all fooled.’ Glenn nodded to the waitress, who brought them both a full English breakfast. Willow nibbled a piece of toast despite the tantalising aroma of bacon. Her appetite had deserted her.
‘Except Amber. She knew something was amiss. She was right. I should have listened to her.’
‘I guess we should know by now; teenagers are always right.’
‘I told him everything. Things only Lou and one other knew.’ Willow looked at Glenn. He’d bared his soul to her two years ago. Now it was her turn. For the second time in twenty-four hours, she revealed the secret she’d held close for twenty years.