Know Your Heart: A New Zealand - Tracey Alvarez Page 0,92
The ice cubes in her guts turned into jagged shards. “I was still searching for other people’s approval—for your approval. And that I didn’t have to do anything to earn his, because he loved me. He loves me, and I left him.” A sob hiccoughed out of her, and she clapped a hand over her mouth.
Oh God, what was she doing, making a huge scene in a crazy-busy airport?
“Ah, Savvy.” Her father slung an arm around her shoulder, hooking her tight to his side. “You’ve always had my love and approval, only I didn’t show it as well as I should’ve. We’ll work on that, we will. And as for this Glen fellow, seems he knows you pretty well.”
Savannah snuffled, the ache in her chest spreading until her whole body throbbed. “He does. I didn’t see it before, and I didn’t tell him that I loved him before I left. I refused to see it, to even think it could be true, because it would make me an idiot for leaving him behind.”
“Love makes you do stupid things. Like leaving when you should stay.” His voice gentled. “Like staying when you know you should leave.”
“So what do I do, Dad?” she asked. “Now would be a good time for some fatherly advice.”
He gave her one last squeeze and released her again. “Now we go back home and let Rachel and the girls fuss over you. You let your family—because make no mistake, we are your family—take care of you for a few days. You’ll figure out what you want. What’ll make you happy. What it is you need.” He grabbed the handles of both suitcases. “A man who knows your heart and loves you enough to encourage you to follow it… That’s not something to give up lightly. So let your heart be a compass and show you which direction you should go.”
Savannah found a watery smile. “Dad, that’s very profound.”
“Your old man is pretty profound now, too. Being in love helps with that. You’ll see.” He tipped his head toward the outside doors. “Come on, then, little diva. Your chariot awaits.”
***
Twenty-eight hours without sleep did weird stuff to a woman’s brain. Particularly to a woman who may’ve screwed her chances with the man she loved. Blame lack of sleep, stress, and the snoring guy next to her who twitched in his seat like a dreaming dog. Savannah directed the taxi driver to Glen’s place in Newmarket. A less desperate woman would’ve opted to get a twelve-hour nap under her belt before a win-back-her-man attempt.
The taxi disappeared down the road, and Sav turned toward Glen’s townhouse. Scratch winning her man; she was here to grovel. Admit she was an idiot. Eat humble pie if that’s what he was serving, and even ask for seconds.
After dragging her cases through the gate and to the front door, she eyed the doorbell as if it’d launch a nuclear missile. How would Glen react to her showing up on his doorstep unannounced? For the second time.
Before she could change her mind, she stabbed the buzzer. She stepped back a little bit from the door, smoothing a hand down the yellow dress she knew he liked. Yes, she’d changed out of her comfortable stretchy pants and into a dress. One didn’t have to grovel looking as if she hadn’t slept in twenty-eight hours.
No footsteps on the other side of the door, so Sav buzzed again. And again. Then knocked. Loudly. Checked her phone to make sure she had the right address for Glen Cooper, Newmarket. She peered through a small pane of glass beside the door. Two crossed swords were mounted on the hallway wall. She had the right place.
A tuneful whistling from the sidewalk behind her dragged her focus from Glen’s front door. A postman poked a handful of letters into Glen’s mailbox and then continued on. Postie? Clearly, she was not only tired but stupidly oblivious to the fact normal people were at work on a Monday morning-lunch-afternoon whatever-the-time-was. Her stomach rumbled. Must be after lunch, surely?
Sav sighed and grabbed the suitcase handles. She spotted a path down the side of the house—bet it led to a tiny yard out back. She’d wait for Glen to come home and eat the muesli bar tucked in her purse.
After five minutes of fighting to get both pieces of luggage around the back of Glen’s house, Sav slumped onto a patio chair overlooking a postage-stamp-size patio. The muesli bar vanished in four bites, and even after