Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Ah.
I understood.
This beautiful, confident, successful woman lying on my sofa was lonely.
And for her, it wasn’t a case of ‘always the bridesmaid, never the bride.’
She wasn’t even the bridesmaid.
She was the wedding planner.
She organised endless magical days, watching people live out their happy endings over and over again without having one of her own in sight.
No matter how much she loved her job, it was like she said: she was only human. Even the coldest of people would crack eventually.
“You know, Sylvie, we’re not that different,” I said, matching the volume of my voice to hers, to something barely above a whisper. “Sure, it’s tough for her right now, but my younger sister is married, successful, and has a kid with one on the way. I think it’s normal to feel a bit left behind. More than that, it’s okay to feel that way.”
God only knew I’d battled with the same feelings more than once.
I sighed and gazed at her for a moment. She didn’t respond, and her right eye twitched slightly. Her breathing was slow but heavy, and I had no way to control the way my lips moved of their own accord into a smile.
I knew she would fall asleep there the moment she laid down.
It was past midnight, and we’d had a long day, especially her.
Quietly, I got up and grabbed two blankets we’d used earlier. The fire was still blazing as it would for a few more hours until the embers finally died down, so I wasn’t worried about us getting cold by sleeping in here.
I could try to carry her up to bed, but honestly, I was a little afraid she’d hit me if I tried something like that.
I wouldn’t put it past her to karate-chop me in the head.
I carefully laid the blankets over her body. Thank God we’d gone upstairs to change into pyjamas after we’d eaten so she didn’t have to sleep in her jeans. They were dry now, but that didn’t mean they’d be comfortable.
Sylvie made a little grunting noise as I tucked the blankets up around her shoulders. She reached out and grabbed the edge of one, tugging it up under her chin. Her auburn hair fell across her face, and before I could stop myself, I reached out to gently sweep it away from her eyes.
Lonely.
Lonely was the last thing she’d ever struck me as. Same with being jealous—in all the times I’d seen her with Hazel since she’d come back to Castleton, I’d never once seen any signs of jealousy from her towards her little sister.
If anything, Sylvie had radiated nothing but pure happiness for Hazel and Julian. She was pure sunshine, lighting up the world wherever she went. Every time I laid eyes on her, she seemed to glow.
Just how badly was she hurting herself, keeping all these feelings locked away? How much did it hurt to be instrumental in the wedding day of so many people knowing it’s something you desperately dream of for yourself?
She’d even mentioned about Hazel having her family all around her—a family that belonged to her, too.
“Why don’t you just move back?” I whispered, lightly stroking her hair with my fingertips. “You can work from here now, and you’d have your family, too. You don’t need to do everything alone.”
That wouldn’t be all she’d have, either.
The realisation didn’t slam into me. It wasn’t a tsunami crashing down or a bullet train travelling at the speed of light knocking sense into me.
It was a gentle breeze, nothing more than a whisper of certainty of something I already knew. It flooded my veins with a quiet conviction of its depth, of just how badly I needed this woman to not disappear from my life again.
The moment Sylvie Harding opened her heart to me was the moment I lost mine to her.
The small scar above her right eyebrow served as a reminder of our long and troubled history, and with my fingers still in her hair, I pressed my lips against it softly.
“Stupid woman,” I whispered as I pulled away. “If you’re looking for a man who loves you, all you have to do is open your eyes.”
She didn’t.
Of course, she didn’t.
She was fast asleep.
With a sigh, I got up and turned off the lights. She didn’t so much as twitch in my direction as I made my way to the other sofa, grabbed another blanket, and threw myself down on it. I rolled my head to the side so I could stare at her as the light from the fireplace flickered across her delicate, unmoving features.
And it struck me that I was glad.
Glad my engagement failed.
Glad my heart had been broken.
Glad my attempt to win back my ex hadn’t worked.
If my engagement hadn’t been broken off, if I’d gotten married this past summer, I wouldn’t be here like this with Sylvie right now. We’d have been nothing more than two acquaintances running into each other every now and then. The cricket ball incident would have never been resolved.