Chapter Fourteen
‘You don’t love me?’ I whispered.
He looked down at me, his face blank. I had always seen love in his eyes but now I couldn’t see through the invisible brick wall he had put around himself.
‘You’re only eighteen,’ he replied, staring off toward the fields.
The easy companionship was gone. We were best friends. We had grown up together, chased each other and played happy families. I had always been the mother and he had been the father. Now he was distant and cold. It made me want to cry.
‘You’re only twenty-one. I thought you loved me.’ I couldn’t stop the tears that threatened. I had been in love with him since the day he had arrived, ten years ago. His dark hair and tanned skin had fascinated me.
‘I do love you but not like that.’
‘Wait, don’t go,’ I cried, grabbing his hand as he turned from me.
He froze, unable to look at me, but also unable to move away. He had travelled around the world. I had missed him with all my heart. When he had returned, I was determined to let him know how I felt.
‘I’m courting Angelina.’ He shrugged me off.
I glanced down at my corseted dress. The hem of the blue material touched the light brown mud.
‘Do you love her?’
It was a bold question but I had to know how he felt. I thought he would confess his undying love for me and ask me to be his wife.
‘I don’t know.’
He stormed off and I let him go. I knew him well enough to know that he would need time to process my words. He loved me, I was sure of it. Why was he fighting?
‘Are you okay?’
The voice belonged to our neighbour. He was a tall man with a thickset neck and heavy hands. His grey eyes were a little weird but he was kind enough. He had shown interest in me for a while. I had been so wrapped up with my love, I hadn’t allowed him to court me.
‘Not really. Will you take me to the dance tomorrow?’
His face split into a grin and it made me feel better. At least someone wanted me. If my love wasn’t interested, I would let my neighbour court me.
The next day at the dance, I watched as the man I loved held Angelina. They swayed to the music so I grabbed my neighbour’s hand and let him lead me to the dance floor. My beloved watched the whole time. His eyes darted toward us so I put on a show.
‘Can I speak to you?’ he said, dragging me away as the dance ended. ‘What are you doing?’ he hissed into my face when we were out of sight.
‘You don’t love me so I’m finding someone that will.’
‘That won’t make you happy. I’m sorry I can’t love you the way you want me to but please don’t be stupid because of me.’ He took my hand and looked into my eyes.
The tears flowed down my cheeks at his words. I had been so convinced that he’d loved me. For ten years, I had bided my time to confess my feelings.
‘Please don’t…’ he whispered. ‘I have to leave.’
‘No, I’ll go.’ I took my hand away from him.
‘I meant, I have to leave the village.’
I froze in mid retreat. ‘Why?’
He shook his head and ran a hand over his hair. ‘I don’t want to cause you pain.’
I wiped my cheeks and slowly walked away from him. He caused me pain; I couldn’t deny it. For the last two years, he had flirted and strung me along with lingering looks. A part of me wanted him to go so the pain would fade. I wasn’t aware at the time that no matter where he was, I would love him.