Chapter 45
45
Standing outside Caleb’s chalet door, I take in a deep breath of cool air and remind myself why I’m here. I can’t leave without knowing for sure where we stand and, even though this is way out of my comfort zone, and that I really, really, truly, honestly never, ever do anything like this, I would kick myself forever if I didn’t try.
My heart pounds like a drum inside my chest, each beat reminding me of just how much is riding on this moment. I lift my hand and knock, trying to steady my nerves.
It doesn’t take long before the door swings open, and there he is, Caleb, which is a huge relief already.
My relief is short-lived, though, because the moment he sees me, his face falls, and a heavy, sinking feeling punches me in the stomach.
‘Who is it?’ Annabelle’s voice calls from inside, her tone sharp and impatient.
Oh, great, she’s still here. Wonderful. I’m sure that’s a great sign.
‘It’s someone from the hotel. I’ll be back in a minute,’ Caleb shouts back.
He steps outside, closing the door firmly behind him. Shit, this is not a good sign, is it? I try to read his expression, but his eyes are guarded, his lips are saying nothing.
I force a smile, trying to act like things are normal.
‘Is everything okay?’ I ask, trying to keep my voice casual, even though my heart is playing battering rams against my ribcage.
Caleb sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. He seems frustrated and kind of disappointed.
‘I’m sort of in the middle of something, Amber,’ he tells me plainly. ‘I have a big mess to clean up, given that I’ve been photographed here at the resort.’
He surely can’t think this is my fault, can he? He approached me, he stalked me across Europe, and he took me on the kind of dream date that would make a woman pounce.
Desperation claws at me, and I grasp at humour like a lifeline, like I always do.
‘Need a maid to help clean up?’ I joke, flashing what I hope is a disarming smile.
But he doesn’t laugh. Not even a glimmer of amusement is anywhere to be found on his face. Instead, he just looks at me, his expression unreadable, almost distant.
‘I really need to go back inside,’ he says, his voice flat.
‘Okay, see you later then?’ I say, trying to mask my disappointment with a breezy tone – everything is normal, everything is fine – but it comes out sounding forced.
‘Yeah, see you later,’ Caleb replies, already turning back to the door.
And then he leaves me standing there, out in the cold, the door clicking shut behind him with a finality that really stings.
I stand there for a moment, staring at the closed door, as though I’m expecting him to come back out, to tell me it’s all okay, but he doesn’t. I still can’t get over that he really does seem mad at me. What did I do wrong? Maybe he feels guilty about last night and doesn’t want Annabelle, his true love, to find out what happened. Which is just, wow, chef’s kiss, great. Perfect ending to this twisted fairy tale.
Oh, well, at least now I know where I stand, and I can go home, back to my life, and focus on me and my family. I need to be a big girl, to pick myself up, and remind myself that no one died. I guess, if they had, he could use it as inspiration for one of his books, like the one I helped him to write, the arsehole. I can’t believe he’s dropping me like this.
No. No, no, no. I’m not doing this. I’m going home, with my head held high, I’m not beating myself up over someone else’s love story.
Timing is just as important in romance as it is in comedy and, as perfect as Caleb and I seemed for each other, we just had bad timing.
Sometimes it’s as simple as that but, wow, what a waste.