The Choices We Made Page 2

  He’d stared, with a cold shock that had reverberated through his system, as he had processed the steely determination in her eyes and her voice.

  “But that’s so vindictive, it’s just so cruel.”

  “There are no buts.” She’d hotly interrupted. “When you betray a person’s love you lose all their trust. Trust can never be repaired. No, there is nothing that can survive once love is betrayed.”

  That had been just the beginning of so many arguments that they had taken part in as the months had turned into years. In all that time she had never once agreed a point just to please him but instead had argued, most ferociously, all of the time, as secure in her own point of view as he had been in his.

  A smile, tugged at the corner of his mouth as he considered how he had thrived upon their battles of wits.

  In his mind’s eye he could see again the changes that had occurred as she had transformed herself from a shy long-legged colt into a beauty, bubbling with confidence and poise. Being with her, spending all his time with her had cushioned the pain of losing his twin, not that he had ever let her know what had happened.

  He had not needed her sympathy, he had wanted her friendship. Yet as each day had passed he had realised that he had wanted so much more, a complete relationship, yet she appeared oblivious to him in that way and it had been the fear of jeopardising what they shared that had kept him silent.

  He remembered how he had sat doodling through lecture upon lecture; half listening to the tutor but mostly watching her with fascination as she’d studiously made her notes. She had an endearing habit of biting her lip when concentrating and pushing her unruly hair back into the clips that it habitually escaped from. For some reason he could never understand, it never failed to make him feel protective of her.

  She had bewitched his very soul, turned him inside out, and made him long to do anything that he possibly could in order to cherish her and entwine their lives together forever.

  It had been her constant presence that had eased his decision to abandon his dreams and follow his brother’s course rather than his chosen one. After all, he frequently told himself; if not for that change in direction he might never have met her. For three years their friendship had been based upon supporting each other through college life.

  While other students had seemed to give as much attention to getting laid as they did to their coursework, their relationship continued as chaste as the day it had first started. There were so many times he had sat a little closer to her so that their legs or arms would touch, so many times when he wanted to lean over and kiss her lips, yet didn’t. Again and again he had found the excuse to hold her hand, willing her to acknowledge the tingling bolts that had pulsed sure and steady between their fingertips, but she’d never responded to them; it was as if she had had no awareness of them.

  In fact she’d never given him any encouragement to step over the line and no matter what he had done she had seemed totally unaware of these feelings that were threatening to drown him in their intensity. He had been so afraid to jeopardise what little he had of her and yet equally afraid that if he didn’t declare his feelings he would, one day, explode.

  By then, his every waking and sleeping moments had become consumed by thoughts of her.

  He began to notice small signs that he thought meant she was having financial difficulties. He smiled wryly as he recalled how she shortened all her skirts, and had even stopped wearing bras. He had found that incredibly disconcerting and had had to work incredibly hard to pretend not to notice when in reality the urge to reach out and touch her breast had torn him inside out.

  He had ached with the desire to enfold her in his arms and take upon his shoulders, what he considered, were her problems. Hr wanted to do all and everything that it was possible to do so that he could protect and care for her.

  In despair he had turned to his father for advice, his advice had been short and to the point.

  “Tell her how you feel my boy, if you don’t take a chance now, how will you ever know how she really feels about you?”

  He hadn’t found that advice particularly helpful; his father had no real understanding of his situation, in fact he doubted if his father had ever been afraid of anything in his life, whereas he was afraid, mortally afraid, of losing what little he actually had.

  His mates had begun to run a book on whether or not he would sleep with her before the end of college and many of them had come to offer him useful advice that would help him to win the girl of his dreams and ultimately, obviously, help them to win their bets.

  To his deep despair he had realised they were wasting their time, for nothing that he had done had worked and she remained as untouchable as she had been on that first day that he had met her.

  That was until the night of the graduation ball.

  He could still feel the heart stopping joy he had felt as she had walked onto the dance floor and his life had changed forever.

  Wearing a silky jade green dress that had hugged every beautiful curve of her body and swirled around her legs like a splashing waterfall she had sashayed across the room to him, her unruly hair caught up on top of her head while small tendrils had framed a face that had been smiling only for him.

  It was every Christmas present he had ever had all rolled into one glorious moment as she had leant against him on tiptoe, her perfume engulfing his senses, and finally she had whispered into his ear.

  “Dance with me now, please.”

  As he had tenderly gathered her into his arms it had felt so right, as if they were two halves that had finally come together to make one glorious whole. He had known that this was the night that was going to be theirs, he didn’t think about the book run by his mates and all their bets, his only thought had been that, finally, this was their first magical moment and he knew that it would herald a lifetime of moments that would become more precious as each year passed.

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  Standing as the shower gradually turned cold he retraced his thoughts to that awful sinking moment when he had realised that this was her first time, that she was still a virgin. He remembered then the intense pride that had gripped his heart as he realised that she trusted him, and only him, to share this precious moment with her.

  He had stayed beside her all night, and in the end it had been she who was the teacher and he the student, for she had taught him about giving and receiving love openly with honesty and complete trust.

  In the cold light of the morning he had blamed himself for letting the situation get out of hand and going as far as it had. Remorse had seeped into every inch of his being and he was wracked with guilt for what had happened.

  How would she feel when she woke up and realised what they had done?

  Would he be able to convince her that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her?

  She had deserved so much more than a night spent in a single bed hiding from prying eyes; he wished with all his being that last night had been their wedding night.

  Leaving a note on her mirror he had crept out to found them some breakfast while he had considered the words he needed to use to ensure she understood, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was only the start of all they had to share in the years to come, when they would grow old together, gracefully.

  He realised now that going to the canteen that morning had to have been the biggest mistake of his entire life. For in the euphoria of all that had happened he had forgotten the bets made by his mates.

  “Congratulations, you’ve finally done it! Saw you creeping out of the girls student block, couldn’t wait to tell everybody.” Simon smiled broadly.

  “Well done mate!” He had been heartedly slapped on the back again and again, drawn into the centre of their circle as the congratulations continued.

  “Only fair that you have some of this, after all you are the one who did all the hard work.”

  Money was placed in his hands and more ribald comments could be heard coming from the group of l
ads crowding around him. Even as he had smiled with them, he could still feel the gut wrenching horror that their words conjured up. He remembered that their voices had faded into silence as they’d looked over his shoulder and he had slowly turned to see what they were staring at.

  She had stood alone at the entrance to the canteen, her eyes had glistened with unshed tears as she looked at him, a smile dying on her face. She must have heard something of what was being said, well most of the canteen must have heard for their voices were so raucous, he could still see the pain and humiliation that had burned in her eyes as she’d stared at him.

  Without a word she had run out of the room.

  His heart had felt like it might burst and he had been convinced he was going to be sick, yet he found that his feet just would not move, it was as if they were glued to the spot and nothing his brain could tell them would make them move.

  Even now he was unable to recognise why he had stayed transfixed there and let her run away. It was only when they had continued to heap more money into his hand, his share they’d said, that he had finally been able to move.

  He had flung their money at them and run out after her.

  But it was far too little, far too late. He’d sought out her friends, but they had obviously known what had occurred. There was no-one who would reveal where she had gone and he had never felt so hopeless in his entire life.

  From that moment on it was as if she had ceased to exist.

  Of all the things that he was unable to pardon himself for, it was his actions on that morning for he knew that they were totally unforgivable; he had been the worst kind of coward for he had failed her miserably when he should, instead, have protected her with his life. He had done nothing to deserve her love and everything to prove how unworthy he was to receive it and even now, twelve years later, his heart still ached for the love he had so thoughtlessly and completely destroyed.

  Within an hour of him ruining their lives his mother had phoned him with more catastrophic news that had taken precedence over his immediate personal, emotional problems.

  His father had collapsed and been rushed to hospital. His mother had needed him with her and he had therefore rushed to be at her side.

  CHAPTER THREE

  In the weeks that had followed, as he’d dealt with the funeral arrangements and taking up the reins of his father’s various business ventures, he had pushed the events of that morning to the back of his head, but, as soon as he could he had returned to college to try and find her, or someone, anyone, who could give him some clue as to where he could find her.

  The secretary in the college office had refused to give him her address. He had spun her a yarn about finding some of Lindy’s books mixed up with his belongings and how important it was to return them to her, which was the reason why he’d needed her address; after all she might have urgent need of them. The secretary had insisted she was unable to help so he had asked to speak to the bursar who had applauded him for being so honest, words designed to make him feel like a total heel, but even though she was sympathetic she had been absolutely adamant that she could not give out anyone’s address without that person’s permission.

  Kindly she had offered to get in touch with Lindy herself, explain the situation to her and then suggest that she contact him so that he could return her property. It had been at that very moment that he had realised his deepest despair, for he had known in his heart that that strategy would not work.

  Lindy would know he didn’t have any of her books and why would she want to contact him? After all he had taken her virginity and then betrayed her, would any girl want to speak to a guy that did that?

  Yet he hadn’t betrayed her, he really hadn’t, but she’d given him no time to explain.

  In vain he’d waited and prayed that she would make contact with him, if only so that she could yell at him, but that longed for phone call had never materialised.

  From that day forward he had never been able to rid himself of this self-loathing that he constantly wallowed in. Most of the time he blamed himself, sometimes he blamed her, but whatever he did, he couldn’t shake the memories of her from his mind. Nor could he stop the anger that had bubbled away deep inside.

  Anger at himself, his life, his idiocy, his inability to find her and his failure to let go of his dreams and find solace elsewhere.

  His mother was so determined to help him, but not one of the women she introduced him to could match up to his memories of Lindy. In fact they were all so disastrous, so eager to please, so eager to agree with him, so ready to defer to his superior knowledge.

  How ridiculous and sad was that.

  As if Lindy would have done anything like that, she had too much sense of her own worth to employ such blatant stupid tactics. How he missed the thrill of engaging in verbal sparring with her.

  And the women he met at business meetings, they were too hard, too knowing; the only thing in their favour was that they were more available sexually than those girls introduced to him by his mother. Yet even that did not work out satisfactorily, for when he finally took them to bed to try and eradicate Lindy from his mind, he couldn’t forget her perfume, or the feel of her body nor the silky softness of her hair.

  For each and every one of them he recognised that they were wanting in some way or another that he found absolutely impossible to define and the longing he had to hold Lindy again was only increased by his frustration at his inability to find any emotional attachment to another woman.

  If he could change any moment in his life he would return to that dreadful morning in the canteen, run to her side and tell her how much he loved her and to hell with what anyone else thought.

  She had become his reason for living while he was at college and she had now become the reason why he couldn’t form the kind of relationship his mother was so desperate to see him have.

  He had never seen her again.

  Like him she had graduated with a first class honours degree but he distinctly remembered that, at the award ceremony six months after the graduation ball, she had not been there. He still did not understand why his stomach churned at the thought that it might have been his actions that had stopped her from attending.

  Hell he still couldn’t understand why he still felt this way twelve years later, why there were still songs he heard that nearly choked him, and why, when he smelt her perfume floating on the air, he still felt a deep ache inside where he had once owned a heart.

  Even now he kept fantasising about seeing her again. He rehearsed the scene over and over in his mind: how he would behave better, how he would treat her like the precious angel she was to him and how, having accepted his apology and forgiven him for his crass behaviour, she would then fall into his arms and finally for ever and always, all would be well with the world again.

  He knew it was a dream, but the dream was so stubborn that it hovered in the wings of his mind never to fade.

  He looked at himself in the mirror and grimaced wryly, that story line must have come from one of his mother’s books. If the truth be told if he were to ever see her again she would probably cut him dead and that would be no more than he deserved.

  But, God how he wished it wasn’t so.

  Towelling himself of he desperately tried to fight down the memories and the sadness that threatened to engulf him and return them instead into the box that he had buried deep at the bottom of his frozen heart.

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  Pulling on a pair of tight black jeans and a white polo shirt that showed off his tanned skin to perfection, he prepared to set about the business of the day. Being a Saturday he dressed informally for the office rather than his normal suit and tie; work on a Saturday was yet another bone of contention with his mother, for she felt that weekends should be kept free to spend with members of the family enjoying a normal home life.

  Whenever he tried to argue with her by reminding her that he didn’t have a family yet so it didn’t matter whether he worked over a weekend or
not, she would counter argue with her favourite response.

  “So will you please tell me how you will ever get yourself a family if you don’t take some time out to meet some beautiful girls? You need a wife, you need a family, I need a daughter- in- law to talk to, and I need grandchildren around that I can spoil. What is a mother for? Let me help you find your happiness.”

  This just went to prove, he thought, that Italian mamas always believed that they knew what was best for their children. Sometimes he wondered if he had confessed to his mother what had happened a long ago, whether she could have stopped this feeling of self-loathing from growing out of all proportion; then he thought of how she would look at him when she understood what he had done and would be thoroughly ashamed of him.

  He knew then why it was he had never told her, he could not bear the thought of disappointing her or his godmother so spectacularly.

  He thanked his lucky stars, that of the three females his life now revolved around it was only Adrienne, his PA, who would never try to introduce a woman to him. At least he could always trust her to leave his love life alone.

  Calmer to a degree he left the house and stalked across the courtyard.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Adrienne watched him as he crossed the courtyard: a mother herself she recognised an angry stomp when she saw one.

  With a grin she surmised that he had had yet another row with his mother.

  She turned to the table quickly checking that she was satisfied with the way she had laid out all the information. Content, she glanced at herself in the mirror, checking to see if her features betrayed any of the nervousness and anxiety that were gnawing at her insides. A wry smile danced across her lips, she was inordinately proud that she looked perfectly composed. She might look like a dizzy blond, but looks were deceptive, her business brain was second to none.