Chapter 17 #2
I began to notice how much I hated hearing you chat with Rosalie about Dante. I could have strangled Michael for every suggestive remark he ever fired your way. And every night, before falling asleep, your face was the last thing I’d see.
Hannah, I fell for you. Head over heels.
Of course, that realization presented a few dilemmas.
I had always vowed I would never get involved with an employee.
I felt it would be unprofessional and—as you explained so clearly on Tuesday—it leaves so much room for conflict of interest. And so I tried to treat you like I treat everyone else.
I knew any rumour or suspicion would ruin your reputation, as well as mine.
And yet, I began to entertain the idea of abandoning all my principles.
That time you went to pick up a first aid kit and I overheard you talking to Rosalie, I realized that me treating you just like anyone else, also meant you seeing me the same way everyone else does. I should have been happy about that, right? Business always comes first, as my father used to say.
But that night at the reception, when I found out what Dante did to you, something inside me just snapped. How could that idiot treat such an incredible woman so horribly? How could he not see how goddamn lucky he was?
I stopped caring that you were my assistant. I wanted you. More than I’d ever wanted anything in my life.
Every time I looked at you, my heart would skip a beat. Every time you smiled, all I wanted to do was kiss you.
When I saw you dancing with Matthew at the Valentine’s party—that was my first time experiencing how intense jealousy can feel. You seemed so at ease with him. That’s how I wanted you to feel with me.
I didn’t mean to follow you, my feet just carried me out to the terrace.
And when I saw him almost kiss you, the words started tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them.
I didn’t want to see you with another man.
I wanted you to be with me. I wanted to be the one dancing with you, kissing you, waking up next to you . . .
That night, when you kissed me back? That was the best I’d ever felt in my life. And then somehow the weekend we spent together was even more incredible. I felt like I could handle anything that might come my way. The world is so much more beautiful with you in it.
On Monday morning, I didn’t dread going to work. The prospect of falling asleep with you in my arms that night made everything so much better.
I’m sure this won’t come as a surprise: it wasn’t exactly the greatest feeling to find out you wanted to keep things professional between us. I suppose I’ve thrown more than enough cliché’s your way by now, so I’ll spare you the sad song about my broken heart.
Everything I’ve written down in this letter is everything I have desperately wanted to shout out loud these past few days in some last-ditch attempt to reverse what you said. But I kept it all inside. I understand and respect your decision.
I love you, Hannah.
Yours,
Valentijn
The paper quivers in my hand as I stare down at the words, the ink slowly bleeding with the tears dripping from my eyes. My heart is beating out of control. And then the truth hits me like a freight train.
What have I done?
I turned my back on a wonderful man because I’m worried about what other people might think?
I told the man I’m in love with—I startle at how easily that word comes to mind—that I want to keep everything strictly business?
! I could kick myself. Men like Val are as rare as raindrops in the Sahara.
I bite my lip again and scan the room. There are still entire hordes of people carrying their purchases up to the wall to take pictures.
I have to do something. Something great. Something grand. I stare and ponder for a moment, then grab my phone from my coat pocket and look up Matthew in my contacts. He picks up after the first ring.
Hannah? His voice sounds cheerful.
Matthew, I need your help . . .
It’s dark out, and Matthew and I are walking along the Thames.
It’s the same stretch that Val and I would walk together almost every night.
The lights are still strung up in the trees and there’s a sparkle coming off the fresh layer of snow we got an hour ago.
Although everything looks exactly the same, nothing feels quite as beautiful as it did the last few times I passed by here.
I exhale with a deep sigh and pat some snow crystals from my coat.
Ronald’s been arrested, Matthew says, as snow crunches beneath our feet. Val let me know. Apparently, Robin stopped by your hotel late last night to give him the news.
Tiny flakes of snow gently drift down from the sky, sticking to his brown curls.
I look at him in surprise. Last night?
Yeah, Val told me that’s when he was arrested. Robin came to see him right away to let him know. A number of Ronald’s former assistants have come forward, too. That means they likely have enough evidence to get a conviction.
I think back to the woman’s voice I heard in the hallway last night and realize how badly I jumped to conclusions. Relief floods through me and with a smile on my face, I say, That’s really good news.
Matthew puts a friendly arm around my shoulders, giving me a little squeeze. It really is. But something tells me that news isn’t the reason we’re on this walk . . . Val.
I look at him, startled. How did you know I’m here about Val?
He shoots me a grin. I didn’t, but that’s Val just up ahead. He nods at the handsome man walking toward us.
Val has his wool scarf tightly wrapped around his neck, his hat pulled down low, nearly covering his eyes. He’s staring out ahead, eyes bleary, and seems far-off in thought. Snowflakes cling to his coat and slowly paint his hat white.
As if he can sense us walking nearby, he lifts his head suddenly and his eyes go wide.
He seems startled when he spots me. For a brief moment, a glimpse of a smile appears on his face, disappearing as quickly as it arrived when he notices Matthew’s arm wrapped around me.
His eyes narrow as they dart from me to Matthew and back.
Matthew hurries to move his arm, quickly dropping it to his side. Val nods at Matthew as we pass, but all I get is a nearly imperceptible shake of his head before his gaze returns to the shimmering snow.
He just blew right past me without saying hi. I glance back over my shoulder and see him striding away from us, shoulders up high. A gust of wind chases snow across the street, turning the back of Val’s coat all white.
When I look over, Matthew has his eyebrows raised at me.
Alright, he says. To cut to the chase here, I’m going to assume you need my help fixing whatever it is I just witnessed. I mean, that look he shot you . . . He flicks his hand through the air. Ouch.
Nodding, I heave a deep sigh. I’ve been so stupid. I really hurt him . . . I look at him for a moment, deeply serious. I’m in love with him, Matthew.
It feels so strange to say it out loud . . . In love . . . I expect Matthew to give me a weird look, but he doesn’t. In fact, he doesn’t even flinch, as if I just told him the sun will rise again in the morning, as it always does. That the Earth is round and we need air to breathe.
Obviously. His one-word reply comes with a grin.
Why aren’t you surprised? I ask, a little uncertain.
Ummm. Off the top of my head? Matthew taps his chin, staring up at the sky. First of all, the Valentine’s party was a dead giveaway. And second of all, you’ve been gazing at him like you’ve been lost in the desert and he’s the first source of water you’ve seen in days.
Surely it hasn’t been that ba—
Oh, it has been that bad, he interrupts me, before softness appears in his eyes. But you clearly want him back, he concludes.
I swallow, then nod. Desperately, I confirm. But I need to do something incredible for him. He deserves it.
Matthew nods with understanding. What do you have in mind?
Do you remember telling me you know someone at the London Eye who’s obsessed with our chocolate?
He nods, breaking into a chuckle.
I was wondering how much they’d be willing to do for twenty boxes of their favourite bonbons . . .