French Wanker - Victoria Pinder Page 0,40
love go. I took out Kara’s note. “Kara, I lost you, but you were right about me. I love being a doctor.”
I just didn’t deserve her.
I placed the paper under my pillow. It was probably an over-indulgence, but I missed sleeping beside her. Maybe one day this feeling would go away, but it probably never would. I’d ache for her the rest of my life.
Chapter 16
Kara
The moment I stepped on the plane my insides were all twisted, and I had goosebumps.
My vacation was over.
There was no point in seeing Italy. I’d feel even more alone and needy without Quentin, so I booked a flight home.
Better to start fixing my life instead of running away from it.
He’d never love me, and I was starting to love a way better man than I deserved.
I found my seat next to an elderly couple who seemed so happy. She’d packed him apples, and they shared it.
I’d never have anyone to share an apple with, who loved me like that, but I’d have to get over that. Right?
I stilled when I saw officers, and my entire body racked with tension as they escorted Marlon to the back, presumably to his seat.
I’d cringed as he passed, but they put him in the last row.
I was on edge he’d come to see me for the first few hours, but he never did.
Good. As I landed in Pittsburgh, I grabbed my bag and headed out.
My feet dragged like I’d lost my chance at happily ever after, though I was home. I made it outside, and my friend Sabrina was there waiting for me. She honked, and I tossed my bag in her trunk. After I got into her heated car, I relaxed into the cloth seats.
“You’re back early,” she said.
Sabrina took off in a sharp turn as I held onto my seat. “I couldn’t stay.”
She started to go, but then she jerked on her brakes as we passed the next exit. Her eyes were wide. “Was that Marlon?”
I motioned for her to go fast and covered my face, so he didn’t see me. “Yeah, we had the same flight home.”
She scoffed and peeled out in her fifteen-year-old Chrysler that could double for a Nazi car. As we made it out of the airport, she asked, “Are you back together with him?”
“Absolutely not,” I said and checked my seatbelt.
She shook her head and drove like she’d repeat what Calliope had done to him in the casino. “Thank God for that. Now tell me what happened.”
The highway was busy, so we had time. And I remembered how yesterday I woke up in the arms of a man who was warm, made me laugh, and dared me to live.
Now I was here, where there were cold, gray skies. I sighed. “I met a wonderful French doctor. I had the time of my life, and now I’m home to find a new job and start fixing my life.”
She changed lanes. “That’s a lot of details you left out.”
She went fast. Good, but my heart was still in Monte Carlo, and my lips tingled to kiss him again. “Quentin—the doctor—he was handsome, a great kisser, smart, sweet, loyal. He called me his new girlfriend right away. No hand wringing and wondering how he felt. He was like the hero of every romance movie I’d ever seen all wrapped up in one perfect person.”
“And you’re here?” We made it out of the tunnel, and she got in the right side to go to the north shore. “Was he ugly or married or something tragic?”
The ring? My palm still had that strange magnetic feeling to it. “No, he’s not married. His fiancée died from cancer.”
“So, he’s sexy and sad and lonely. Was he penniless?”
“No. He has money. He bought me this amazing dress from a shop in Monte Carlo.”
“Yeah, I got nothing.” We made it to the side of town I lived on. “He sounds wonderful.”
“It’s not about what he bought me.” We turned on my tiny street toward my single-family home. “He dared me to be different, and he made me happy and relaxed and, for the first time in my life, complete.”
“So…” she said as she pulled into my driveway. “You’re back to pack, and you’re moving to France?”
“No, my life is here,” I said and hopped out of the car. “I have to start looking for a job.”
“Are you joking?” She followed me as I unlocked my front door. “What fucking life are you leading?”
I bought this house so that one day