***
Afterwards Sophie lay trembling in Matthew’s arms. He stroked her hair and Sophie felt like she was in some sort of dream. She was in bed with the most amazing man, and she felt her emotions coursing through her body. She liked him, she really liked him, and her chest tightened at the thought that it could be more.
“You okay?” he asked. He must have noticed her frown, as she had thought of how their relationship might play out in a professional way, but she nodded and smiled. The slight knitting of his eyebrows relaxed and he kissed her again.
The kiss heightened every part of her body, and she knew that the professional relationship didn’t matter. He’d asked her on a date and they’d barely been able to control themselves because of their mutual liking of the other. Surely he was just as breathless as she was from everything that had happened. The way his eyes stayed firmly on her after the kiss, the way he kept running his hand over her cheek and over her lips, he must be feeling the same thing.
“So are you hungry?” he asked. Sophie laughed, for she’d forgotten all about food. It was the last thing on her mind. “A little,” she said, wondering whether he’d read her mind, because his eyes stared hungrily at her.
“My God you’re amazing,” he whispered. “I think…I think…”
She wanted him to finish what he was saying, and her emotions were so high that she didn’t dare say anything. Every part of her wanted him to finish the sentence. Was he going to tell her he loved her? Sophie could barely move. A lump formed in her throat. Everything felt so right between them. All she could do was stare back at him as he played with wisps of her hair.
“You’re so beautiful, Rebecca,” he said.
Sophie blinked and then flinched. Rebecca? Rebecca. She sat up quickly, clarity washing over her like a splash of cold water. Did he just call her Rebecca? God, did he even realise he’d done it?
She couldn’t get involved with someone who called her by his deceased girlfriend’s name. He was still grieving. He was still in love with someone. Someone else. He was not even close to being ready.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling her close.
She gulped, wishing it was her that he wanted and not Rebecca. The disappointment washed over her body. Should she tell him what he had just called her?
“I think we’re going a little bit fast,” she said, putting a firm hand on his chest, pushing him away. She felt her heart constrict. Sadness found every corner of her body. Disappointment stifled her. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He was breathing quickly. “Oh God, I thought that…”
“Um…are you ready for this?” she said in the quietest voice. “I know you were engaged beforehand.”
“I did something wrong, didn’t I?” Her heart lurched at the pain in his voice. “I really like you,” he said, his hand brushing a strand of her hair from her forehead.
“I really like you, too, but…” She wiped the sweat from her brow. She had to explain, provide him with a reason. “But my name’s Sophie.”
“I know,” he said, kissing her forehead, her nose, and her lips. Her body betrayed her, as she felt her lips part. With an effort she pushed him away. “You called me Rebecca.”
There was a long pause as he looked at her and a dark expression crossed over his gaze. A minute passed and Sophie didn’t know what to do. His expression was so black that Sophie had the answer she needed. She started glancing round the room. She needed to leave. This had been a big mistake. He was in love with another, still tortured over her, and she could never compete.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to,” he eventually said, his eyes widening as he sat up. “I wasn’t thinking of her.”
She swallowed. The name had come to him so automatically. What did it mean? Would it happen again? Would he never forget his ex-girlfriend? Whenever he made love, would he subconsciously be re-enacting his life with Rebecca ?
Despair tumbled round her mind. He wasn’t ready. Because of calling her Rebecca, he wasn’t ready. She released a breath. “Maybe it’s better to keep our relationship simple. Friends. I mean, we could really complicate things professionally and things.”
She jumped out of the bed, practically flinging herself off the mattress. With haste she pulled her clothes on. Hot, silent tears raced down her face. She wiped them away. He didn’t need to see that. He was the one who was grieving. She didn’t need to lump her disappointment onto him too. Thankfully there were no lights on and it was dark. He wouldn’t see her cry.
She heard him move off the bed.
“Look, I think maybe I should go,” she said, not daring a glance at him. She ran from his bedroom and through his apartment, hoping he wouldn’t follow.
She was lucky. He didn’t.
But one thing was certain: She could never compete with a ghost.
Chapter 24