Chapter Sixty-Four
Walker
The taxi arrived as Gabi had asked for; she didn’t want him to drive her, saying it would be too much after everything that had happened.
She was probably right, although he would have done it in a heartbeat.
He carried her monogrammed suitcases to the drive and the taxi driver moaned about how heavy they were as he loaded them into the boot.
Everyone took their turn in saying their goodbyes, Isabella holding on tight for a fierce, long hug before Etienne put an arm around her shoulders and peeled her away.
Everyone slowly drifted back into the garden and left the two of them alone.
Amber clicked the side gate shut and the cabbie sat in the driver’s seat, happy to wait now that the meter was ticking.
Gabi sniffed and smiled, and he could see she was determined to put on a brave face. His own jaw ached with the same pretence.
‘All checked in for your flight?’ he asked.
‘Yep,’ she said. ‘First class to Los Angeles.’
‘Go show America what it’s been missing,’ he said, pulling her to him. She wrapped her arms around him, and he heard her sigh deeply before she answered.
‘And you look after yourself, as well as you do everyone else.’
He lifted her chin and drank her in, wanting to commit her face to memory.
‘Travel safely,’ he said. ‘And if you ever break another bone and need to recuperate,’ he said, trying to sound upbeat, ‘you know where we are.’
She nodded and tears spilled down her cheeks. He thumbed them away and kissed her mouth, gently, just one last time. This was killing him. But he’d taken his shot, and it had fallen short. Now he just had to let her go.
She pushed his hair from his forehead and forced a smile, before physically pulling herself together and taking a step backwards, letting her hand trail down his chest before it fell back to her side.
‘Bye, Walker,’ she said. ‘Thanks for everything.’ He noted how tightly she was holding herself as she slid into the back seat of the taxi. He raised a hand in goodbye and the car crunched over the gravel and pulled out.
A moment later, a hand slipped into his and Rosie peered at him through oversized tortoiseshell glasses.
‘You okay?’ she asked quietly.
He looked back to the road as the taxi disappeared around the corner.
‘No, Rosie,’ he said back. ‘I don’t think I am.’