8. Georgina #2
The mirror shows me a woman with red-rimmed eyes and mascara smudged beneath her lashes.
I wet a paper towel and clean up the worst of it, working carefully, giving myself something to do with my hands.
The redness won’t disappear before I go outside.
I stop rubbing at it and throw the paper towel away.
A knock comes at the bathroom door, and I recognize my cousin’s voice over the running tap. “Georgie?”
I turn off the tap and push through the door into the corridor. Deus is waiting just outside, his dark hair slightly windblown, his expression tight with concern. He looks me over once, quickly, checking for damage he can see.
“I’m all right.” His attention drops to my shaking hand, and I curl it around the strap of my bag. “I just need to leave.”
“Then we leave.” He falls into step beside me, staying close enough that our sleeves brush without taking hold of me. “Where do you want to go?”
“The house in Le Marche.” As I name my father’s family home, I can picture the door I want to walk through. It’s mine to return to. I won’t have to persuade anyone to let me stay. “Can you take me there?”
“Of course.” Deus steers us down a side corridor, away from the main flow of people. “What about your driver?”
I pull out my phone and send Paolo a message. I’m leaving with my cousin. Please head back without me. It’s not an explanation, but he won’t expect one. Then I put the phone away and keep walking.
“There’s something I need to do first.” I slow as we approach the corridor that leads to the Costanzo hospitality suite. “It will only take a minute. Will you wait here?”
Deus stops beside the door, leaving me room to open it. “I’ll be right outside.”
The hospitality suite is small and private, the room where Max keeps his things during competitions. The door is unlocked, the space empty. His jacket is draped over a chair. His phone is charging on the side table.
Everything waiting for him to come back.
I work my wedding ring over my knuckle, then close my fingers around it. Leaving it here will tell him something I can’t take back by saying I was only tired.
For a moment I want to put it on again and leave the room without changing anything he will notice. I can almost hear him asking why I didn’t wait so we could talk.
I have tried to talk. I said I wanted to be part of his day, and he promised to make time. I believed him because I know how it feels to be loved by him, because that part was real.
It still is, which makes opening my hand hurt more than I expect.
I set the ring beside his phone. The pale mark it leaves on my finger catches my eye as I pull my hand away, and I keep looking at it while I walk back to the door.
Deus is where I left him, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He straightens when he sees my face, and I watch him notice my bare hand. He lets his arms drop to his sides, giving me space to come out. “Ready?”
“Almost.” From the doorway I can see the route to the horse trailers, and I stop beside him. “I need to see Sovrano before we go.”
We walk toward the trailer bay together, past the stables and the warm-up arenas and the last clusters of people finishing their business at the grounds.
The sky has gone gray while I was inside, clouds gathering overhead, and the air smells like rain coming. Deus points out his car beyond the trailers, then leaves me to choose our route toward it.
The Costanzo trailer is parked near the end of the row, green and gold colors bright against the gravel.
A groom I recognize is standing beside it, holding Sovrano’s lead rope while he grazes on a patch of grass near the ramp.
His tack has been removed, his coat still damp from being wiped down after the exhibition.
He lifts his head when he hears my footsteps. His ears prick forward, and he turns toward me with the soft whicker he uses when he knows I’m coming.
“I’ll be at the car.” Deus touches my elbow once, lightly, and then walks away to give me space.
I stop a few feet from Sovrano and look at him. He stretches his neck toward me, searching for the apple slices I don’t have, and I feel my throat close around everything I want to say.
He’ll go home with the grooms, to the stall where I know he’ll be looked after. I keep trying to make that comfort me, but I still can’t say his name.
The groom recognizes me and brings Sovrano a little closer. I lift my hand, meaning to reach for him, then let it fall. She stops, keeping the rope loose, and waits without asking me anything.
I want to press my hand against his neck and stay there while he breathes against my wrist. I’ve done it so often lately, taking comfort in how little he asks of me.
But I can’t bear to begin that familiar greeting when all I’m here to do is leave. If Max finds me here, I will have to explain myself again before I’ve even had time to understand what I’m feeling. I need to be somewhere he isn’t for a while.
Sovrano stretches toward me again, confused by my stillness. His dark eyes are patient, waiting for me to do something he understands.
I take one step back, then another. He watches me go, ears still forward, and I turn and walk toward Deus’s car before I can change my mind.
The first drops of rain hit my face as I cross the gravel.
Deus opens the passenger door when he sees me coming, then goes around to the driver’s side. I slide into the seat and pull the door closed behind me, and through the rain-spotted window I can still see Sovrano standing by the trailer, his head turned toward where I disappeared.
I don’t know how to say goodbye to the part of us I still want.