BooksBarbecue
Back First Comes Love
Chapters (92)
  1. First
  2. Love Connection
  3. Zero
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. One Month Later
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Six Months Later
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-one
  27. Twenty-two
  28. Twenty-three
  29. Twenty-four
  30. Six Months Later
  31. Twenty-five
  32. Twenty-six
  33. Twenty-seven
  34. Twenty-eight
  35. Twenty-nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-one
  38. Thirty-two
  39. Thirty-three
  40. I Have Never
  41. One
  42. Two
  43. Three
  44. Four
  45. Five
  46. Six
  47. Seven
  48. Eight
  49. Nine
  50. Ten
  51. Eleven
  52. Twelve
  53. Thirteen
  54. Fourteen
  55. Fifteen
  56. Sixteen
  57. Seventeen
  58. Eighteen
  59. Nineteen
  60. Twenty
  61. Twenty-one
  62. Twenty-two
  63. A Christmas Date
  64. One
  65. Two
  66. Three
  67. Four
  68. Five
  69. Six
  70. Seven
  71. Eight
  72. Nine
  73. Ten
  74. Eleven
  75. Twelve
  76. Thirteen
  77. Fourteen
  78. Fifteen
  79. Sixteen
  80. Seventeen
  81. Eighteen
  82. Nineteen
  83. Twenty
  84. Twenty-one
  85. Twenty-two
  86. Note from the Author
  87. Sneak Peek – To the Stars and Back
  88. Two
  89. Three
  90. Four
  91. Also by Camilla Isley
  92. About the Author

“Tall guy, dark hair, leather jacket?”

My chest swells with hope. “Yes, him. Did you see him?”

“Hard to miss; it was my only sale of the day.”

“You know where he went?”

“He left with the 3:32 train to New York, darling.”

My heart sinks. “Oh. Oh. Thank you.”

“It was nothing, dear. And happy holidays.”

Yeah, happy indeed. Holly jolly merry freaking bright!

“To you, too.”

I walk away and collapse on the nearest bench, staring blankly at the empty tracks. Diego left. He’s gone. He wants nothing else to do with me. I was too late. I lost him…

***

I sit on the bench for the longest time. The snowstorm eventually gives way to a timid, pallid sun that starts disappearing under the horizon soon afterward. When it’s all gone, the chill of the station becomes unbearable, and I find the strength to get up from this frozen bench and go back to my car.

On the drive home, my head goes strangely blank. It’s empty. As empty as my chest feels. When I walk into the house, I lie to my mother and tell her I managed to catch up with Diego and say goodbye. And that, no, I’m not hungry, I just want to rest a little. Thankfully, she doesn’t ask questions about the kitchen fight, or what happened with Julia. I have no idea what Paul told her, and right now I don’t care.

Mr. Darcy rubs against my jeans, arching his back and raising his tail, wanting me to pick him up. I oblige him and bring him upstairs with me. In my room, I change into PJs and try to coax the blood to flow back to my red toes, rubbing my feet in a blanket and putting on a pair of clean, warm socks. Then I hide under the covers.

It’s a mistake.

The sheets still smell of Diego. Against my better judgment, I grab his pillow and press it to my nose, inhaling deeply. I’m exhausted, ironically, because I spent the night awake making love to Diego, and I can’t wrap my head around how much has changed in such a short time. How can one person go from waking up so perfectly happy, to ending up back in bed less than twelve hours later so utterly destroyed?

I smell the pillow again, and that does it; tears streak down my cheeks uncontrolled. Mr. Darcy is purring next to me, but the sound’s usually soothing effect is lost on me today. I can’t help but resent the cat a little at how content he looks; he has his half of the bed all back to himself.