Quiet Longing (Quiet Love #2)

24.

Charli

Rhys was unusually quiet during lunch, but I couldn’t figure out why. We were alone on our way back because Shay had wanted to walk Maggie to her office. I got the sense something was weighing on his mind.

“Everything okay?” I asked, glancing up at his frowning profile.

“Huh?” His eyes flicked to mine then away. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

“You sure? Is it work stress?”

“No, work is good.” He fell silent, casting me an odd look before he continued, “I know you told Maggie you aren’t dating right now, but I just wanted to say …” he trailed off and ran a hand over his jaw. My heart skipped a beat. I’d thought he’d acted a little strangely when Maggie had suggested I go on a date with her brother. Was that what had been bothering him?

“Rhys?” My eyebrows rose, expectant.

He blew out a breath. “Even if you change your mind in a couple weeks or months and feel ready to get out there again, I don’t think Jonathan’s a good fit. Maggie thinks he’s a great guy, but she only met him last year when she found out they were half siblings. She’s still got her rose-tinted glasses on when it comes to him.”

“Surely, he can’t be that bad if she decided to work for him.”

“The man hasn’t spoken to his own mother in almost a decade because of some petty grievance. I don’t care what Maggie says; he’s a fucking arsehole. If my mam were still alive, there wouldn’t be a day that went by where I didn’t want to see her.”

I pressed my lips together, understanding why anyone not talking to their mom would rub Rhys the wrong way. In a sense, I was still reeling from the news that she’d died. That her illness was the reason he’d stopped contacting me. At the time, I’d been wrapped up in my own hurt, full of teenage angst, feeling rejected and pushed out. Now, that hurt barely registered. I simply felt sad for Rhys going through something so horrible at such a young age and feeling like he’d had to ghost everyone just to get through it.

Reaching out, I gently touched his arm. “Hey, I get that, but everyone’s relationship with their parents is different. You can’t judge them when you aren’t in their shoes.”

My words seemed to penetrate because his frown softened a little. “I still don’t think he’s right for you,” he grumped, and a faint shiver tip toed down my spine.

“Why not?”

Rhys’ eyes met mine, gentling. “You need someone who’s kind.”

“You don’t think Jonathan is kind?”

Rhys scoffed. “I heard he once fired a brand new employee on day one because they put the wrong date on a client statement.”

“Well, dates are important, especially when it comes to financial transactions, but I understand what you mean. It’s expected you’ll make a few mistakes when you’re starting a new job.” I paused to glance across the street then back to him. “How do you know so much about Jonathan anyway?”

Rhys shrugged. “Dublin is like a village when you’ve lived here long enough. You end up meeting everyone, hearing gossip.”

“Gossip is rarely the full truth, though,” I said, and Rhys made a non-committal grunt just as we arrived back at the hotel.

He excused himself when we reached the lobby, quickly tearing off to deal with some security issue. For the rest of the day, I couldn’t stop thinking about his reaction to the possibility of me dating Maggie’s half brother. I wavered back and forth between imagining he was jealous then writing off the notion and deciding he was simply looking out for me. Rhys was that type. Protective. Besides, this Jonathan character could turn out to be awful, and I certainly didn’t need any more awful people in my life.

I didn’t see much of Rhys for the remainder of the week, just a few quick glimpses in the hotel corridors where his eyes would soften, and he’d give me a nod and a smile hello. I also received a handful of text messages from him that I’d started really looking forward to. Every time my phone buzzed, I felt a little thrill in my stomach that it might be him.

Rhys: (Picture attached) This is Shabby. He’s the resident Tomcat. We’re all pretty sure he lives in the bushes out in the courtyard, but we rarely have rodent problems, so we leave him be.

Me: Wow, what a handsome boy. I’ll make sure to leave him some treats if I spot him about.

And the following day.

Rhys: Good morning. Forecast says it’ll be raining this afternoon. If you’re going out for lunch, bring an umbrella.

Me: Thx for the heads up, weatherman :-)

And the day after that.

Rhys: Just got a new coffee machine for my office. Feel free to stop by for an espresso. I just had three. Someone needs to stop me.

Me: Lol! Step away from the machine, Rhys.

Rhys: Can’t. It came with so many flavours to try. Big coffee has created a monster.

I thought about going across the hall and taking him up on his offer, but Maeve was always around, and I worried she’d spot me slipping into Rhys’ office. I didn’t need her getting the wrong idea.

Speaking of Maeve, she seemed a little peeved that I hadn’t come to lunch with her and Stephanie again, but I decided it was better not to get too friendly with those two. On Friday morning, she casually asked if I’d spoken to Nuala yet, and I replied that I hadn’t. Her eyes had narrowed in barely concealed annoyance, and I remembered Rhys’ words from the previous week, how I needed to set boundaries with people.

So, with a rush of courage, I quickly added that I’d prefer not to get involved and that Stephanie should call Nuala herself if she wants to talk to her.

“My cousin is super nice. Stephanie shouldn’t be nervous to call her, and I’m sure Nuala would be happy to hear from her,” I said, forcing a smile.

Maeve’s eyes flared, her lips settling into a flat, unhappy line before she said, “Sure, that’d probably be better.”

I knew she was going to be a little frosty with me for a while, but it was worth it to have spoken up that I wasn’t comfortable with the request.

Later that evening, I walked to Rhys’ car with a swing in my step. As always, he got out to open the passenger side door for me. There was something about the gesture that gave me a rush of pleasure, butterflies in my stomach that I had to tamp down. This was one of the main reasons why I’d decided not to become friends with Stephanie. It felt wrong, given how my body tended to react in Rhys’ presence, how excited I got when he texted me.

Not that I had any intention of doing anything about it, but still, it wouldn’t be right to befriend his ex.

“You’re going to be proud of me,” I said with a smile as he climbed back into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

“Oh, yeah?” His eyebrows quirked as he smiled back at me.

“Remember last week when you said I needed to get better at setting boundaries with people?” Rhys nodded, his lips curving as he glanced at me while reversing out of the parking spot. “Well, I just told Maeve I wasn’t comfortable talking to Nuala about Stephanie.”

The only sign he was pleased was a very slight lip twitch. “You did?”

“Yup. I’m guessing she’s not going to be very happy with me for a while, but it was worth it. At least, now, she’ll be less likely to make any similar requests moving forward.”

“You’re right,” Rhys said, a soft note in his voice that made my stomach do a funny twist. “I am proud of you.”

“Thank you.” I cast him another smile. “You’re a good influence.”

He chuckled at that, and we fell into companionable silence. A minute or two passed before Rhys said, “I actually paid Steph a visit this week.”

“Oh?”

He cleared his throat. “I felt like we needed to talk. Set things straight.”

“And did you? Set things straight, I mean?”

Rhys nodded. “We’re on the same page now. She knows that …” He fell off, clearing his throat before he continued, “That we won’t be getting back together.”

Oh, man. That sounded brutal, and I felt a little sad for Stephanie because it wasn’t an easy thing to hear.

“Did she have to get a new place?” I asked.

“What?”

“When you guys broke up, and she moved out, I mean.”

“Oh, no. Stephanie never lived with me. She always had her own apartment. I asked her to move in after we got engaged, but she wasn’t the biggest fan of my house.” He paused to chuckle softly. “I didn’t blame her because, at the time, I was still renovating, and the place was a mess, but even when all the work was finished, she was determined for me to sell so we could buy a new house together. She didn’t like my place because it’s old, and there’s no driveway. You have to park on the street, and Steph hates parallel parking.”

“I don’t blame her,” I said. “Parallel parking is nerve-wracking as hell.”

“Yeah, well, it’s probably for the best she never moved in. Makes the breakup less complicated. Finding a place to rent in Dublin is tough right now. We might’ve been living together for months while she found somewhere new.”

“Ah, right. That would’ve been awkward.” A stray thought entered my mind that I couldn’t imagine being engaged to a man like Rhys and not wanting to live with him, even if it did mean having to parallel park. I’d want to go to sleep with him every night and wake up next to him the following morning. Then again, I was probably overthinking it. Likely, they took turns staying over at each other’s places throughout the week.

“Very,” Rhys agreed, eyes flicking to me a moment. “So, other than Maeve being pushy, have you been finding it okay working at the hotel? Is everyone being nice to you?”

“Why?” I asked, smiling. “Will you wave your head of security badge around and glower at anyone who’s being mean to me?”

Rhys laughed. “Sadly, there’s no such badge though I’m prepared to have words with people if you need me to.”

Hmm, I wondered what that looked like. A shiver trickled across the back of my neck and travelled right down to my core. “Well, no need. Everyone’s been very nice so far.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

Troublingly, Friday evenings started to become the thing I looked forward to most in the week. My hour alone with Rhys in his car. It wasn’t good for me, becoming attached to him when I was still working through all the leftover trauma from my marriage.

“What’s that?” he asked the following Friday as I sat next to him in the passenger seat on the drive, looking at a figurine on my phone on an antiques website.

“A possible purchase. I collect these.”

Rhys looked amused. “You collect ornaments?”

“Yeah, I know, it’s an old lady hobby, but it sparks joy, so you can’t make me feel embarrassed about it.”

“I wasn’t trying to embarrass you. I’m just interested. Do you only collect ballerinas or—”

“No, I collect all sorts. They’re called Lladrós. It’s a Spanish brand of porcelain figurines that started in the 1950s. My grandmother on my dad’s side left me a whole collection of them after she passed, and I started adding to it over the years.” I fell silent, a hollow in my chest to know Jesse still had my collection secreted away somewhere. He’d never sell it, even though it was worth thousands of dollars. He didn’t need the money. The triumph for him was in knowing he had something I held dear.

“Charli?” Rhys said, a thread of concern in his voice.

“Sorry, I just … it’s a sore spot for me because Jesse still has my collection. I’d been in such a hurry to divorce him that I didn’t think to get my lawyer to stipulate that my collection be returned, and then when I asked for it back, he claimed he didn’t have it and that he thought I’d taken it with me.”

Rhys began to frown. “And you didn’t?”

“No, of course not. I barely had time to—” I stopped talking mid-sentence, realising how much I’d been about to reveal. I didn’t want Rhys to know the truth, that I’d had less than twenty minutes to pack a bag and leave while Jesse went to the store. In that short space of time, I was gone. All the divorce negotiations were made over the phone. I refused to ever be in his physical presence again aside from the few times we’d met with our lawyers present.

“You barely had time?” Rhys asked, his frown intensifying.

I blew out a breath and slid my phone in the pocket of my cardigan. “We had a fight that was the final nail in the coffin of our relationship. I left him that same day, so I only packed the essentials. To be honest, I didn’t want to take much with me. I wanted a fresh start.”

Rhys’ frown didn’t let up. “A fight,” he said, looking like he was chewing over something in his mind. A long silence passed before asked, “How much is it worth, this collection of yours?”

“Oh gosh, it must be close to fifty thousand dollars. Grandma left me some rarer pieces, and those can go for thousands.”

“That fucker stole a collection worth fifty grand from you?” His voice was low, furious, and full of gravel.

“It’s not about the money. The collection has sentimental value. And technically, he didn’t steal—”

“He fucking stole it, Charli. You didn’t take it with you and he’s pretending you did. The arsehole probably sold it and kept the money for himself.”

I was a little taken aback by his anger on my behalf though it did feel good to have someone else be as upset as I was at losing my collection. “I doubt he sold it. He doesn’t need the money. He’s keeping it to get one over on me. A secret little win in the divorce, you know?”

Rhys looked at me then back to the road. “Remind me again why you married this prick in the first place?”

The question surprised a laugh out of me while emotion still lingered at the back of my throat. “I guess we all sometimes make poor choices in life.”

“Where did you say you two lived? Philadelphia?”

“Yes, we lived in Philly,” I replied, curious as to why he was asking.

“And what was your married name, Jesse’s surname?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“His surname, Charli. What is it?”

“Miller, but I’m not sure why—”

“I’m getting that collection back for you.”

“Rhys, that’s not possible. Jesse will never admit to having it, and short of me getting a search warrant to enter his apartment, it’s not like I can ever prove it’s still there.”

“There are other ways,” he said just as he pulled up in front of my aunt and uncle’s house. His statement created a panic in me because, although I’d love to have my collection back, it wasn’t worth contacting Jesse. I wanted him to forget I existed, and I certainly didn’t want to provoke his temper even if I was living in a whole other country.

“Please,” I said, reaching out to grip his hand. Rhys stilled, his eyes finding mine. I knew there was fear and desperation in my voice, saw the flicker of surprise in Rhys’ expression when he heard it. “Please don’t do anything. The collection is gone. I’ve made my peace with that. I don’t need your help on this one, Rhys.”

He stared at me for so long I felt my pores tighten. Then, finally, he turned his palm in my hold, gently taking my fingers and lowering his mouth to my knuckles in a light, barely there kiss. My breath caught.

“Okay,” was all he said as he drew away, let go of my hand, and exited the car. By the time he came around to my side to help me out, I’d just about regained the ability to breathe properly.

The following Friday, just before I was about to head out, the mailroom attendant dropped off a stack of letters for the accounts department. Normally, Barry dealt with the mail, but he’d already left, so I sorted through them absentmindedly when I spotted one addressed to me. It came from the Irish Department of Revenue, must’ve been some correspondence in relation to my visit the other week, but that wasn’t what had a sudden burst of emotion hitting me, my eyes flooding with moisture.

Charlotte Moretti. That was the name on the envelope. The first letter in my fresh start addressed to me in my maiden name. I wasn’t sure why I was so emotional about it. It just felt important somehow. I sat staring at the letter for a long time before I realised Rhys would be waiting for me in the parking lot.

He was out of the car when he saw me coming, but unlike most Fridays when he’d simply open the door and usher me in, he paused, his eyes tracing over me.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, features drawn in concern.

Dammit. I obviously looked like I’d been crying. They were happy tears, but Rhys didn’t know that. His hand came up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing away the sheen of moisture, and my breath caught, stomach fluttering at how intensely he regarded me. His jaw was tight, his brow furrowed in concern, gaze penetrating like he wished to extract the worries from my mind by sheer force of will. At last, I found my voice.

“I’m fine, honestly. It’s not what it looks like—”

“Ah, fuck,” he muttered low, and I glanced up, noticing his eyes were levelled somewhere over my shoulder. He let go of my cheek and stepped back. “We better get going,” he continued gruffly, and I stood there, confused for a second. Then, as I climbed into the car, I realised why he swore. Stephanie was standing by the entrance to the hotel, and she was staring in our direction. She’d seen Rhys tenderly cupping my face, and if her expression was anything to go by, she wasn’t very happy about it.

Ah, fuck, indeed.