of him being alive were, according to the representative of the Australian government assigned to Matt’s disappearance, slim.
Caitlin knew it was unlikely he was coming back. But knowing it was time to move on and actually doing so were two very different things, especially when everyone, from his parents and sister to the Australian Prime Minister still believed her to be his grieving fiancée.
She hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell them she and Matt had ended it. Matt’s parents had clung to her for support at the news of his disappearance. And the Australian Federal Government…the government had elevated her to poster-child status, a shining, heartbroken example of the dedication and determination Australians had in the face of tragedy.
The only person Caitlin had confided in was her uncle, a man she loved and trusted damn near more than her own father. As much as she hated to admit it, she’d needed support for the emotional burden she’d placed upon herself.
“It’s time to think of you , kiddo,” Uncle L chided gently through the phone. Love filled his calm voice. Love and concern. It was an emotion she was familiar with, especially from her family and closest friends. She’d heard it for eight months now. “I’m not telling you to jump into bed with Josh—”
“Uncle L!”
“I’m just saying maybe going out for a drink with him might be what you need to doto start thinking of you . If nothing else, cook him dinner one night. I did tell him how delicious your lasagna is, after all. Do you really think the rest of the country will care? Is it any of their business anyway?”
The lump in Caitlin’s throat grew thicker at the thought of uber-famous Josh Blackthorne in her apartment. She pictured him sitting at her small dining table, the one she’d bought at a garage sale, with its stick-figure fairies etched in the wood with pink pen by the previous owners’ artistic daughter.
She pictured him relaxing on her sofa after the meal, the first male in her home that wasn’t a family member, friend or tradesperson in eight months.
She pictured the smile Josh had given her, the one that didn’t look mastered by countless photo shoots. The one that looked natural, not the smile of a rock star known for his seductive flirtation, but a guy who was enjoying sharing a moment of joy.
She thought of the photo of Matt hanging on her wall, staring down at Josh. The one she hadn’t been able to put into storage with the rest of his belongings.
“I don’t…” she began, her stomach churning.
“Do you remember what you said to me a lifetime ago, kiddo?” her uncle asked. “When you were seventeen and I was messed up over my feelings for Chris? Do you remember? You told me to think with my mind, listen to my heart and be true to myself.”
A thick lump filled Caitlin’s throat. She remembered that night, those words of advice she’d given her uncle when he’d doubted if he and Chris had a future together.
“You also told me the worst thing a person could do is reject themselves in fear someone else will. Aren’t you doing that now? In a roundabout kind of way?”
Raising her head, she stared at the painting Matt had given to her months ago, a breaking-up present, as it was. “I was a precocious teenager, wasn’t I?”
Liev laughed. “Hell, yeah. And an intelligent one and a stubborn one, just like you are now—smart and stubborn. But it’s time to stop being stubborn and start being a realist.”
“I feel guilty, Uncle L,” she whispered.
“Guilty?”
Her stomach rolled. “When I find myself laughing, when I find myself forgetting him, forgetting what I’m meant to be to him…I feel guilty. And even though we weren’t still together, I hate myself for forgetting him.”
“Oh, kiddo.” Concern and sympathy cut her uncle’s words. “God, I wish I was there right now. I’d hug you silly.”
A wet chuckle slipped from Caitlin. Hot tears prickled the back of her
Caitlin knew it was unlikely he was coming back. But knowing it was time to move on and actually doing so were two very different things, especially when everyone, from his parents and sister to the Australian Prime Minister still believed her to be his grieving fiancée.
She hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell them she and Matt had ended it. Matt’s parents had clung to her for support at the news of his disappearance. And the Australian Federal Government…the government had elevated her to poster-child status, a shining, heartbroken example of the dedication and determination Australians had in the face of tragedy.
The only person Caitlin had confided in was her uncle, a man she loved and trusted damn near more than her own father. As much as she hated to admit it, she’d needed support for the emotional burden she’d placed upon herself.
“It’s time to think of you , kiddo,” Uncle L chided gently through the phone. Love filled his calm voice. Love and concern. It was an emotion she was familiar with, especially from her family and closest friends. She’d heard it for eight months now. “I’m not telling you to jump into bed with Josh—”
“Uncle L!”
“I’m just saying maybe going out for a drink with him might be what you need to doto start thinking of you . If nothing else, cook him dinner one night. I did tell him how delicious your lasagna is, after all. Do you really think the rest of the country will care? Is it any of their business anyway?”
The lump in Caitlin’s throat grew thicker at the thought of uber-famous Josh Blackthorne in her apartment. She pictured him sitting at her small dining table, the one she’d bought at a garage sale, with its stick-figure fairies etched in the wood with pink pen by the previous owners’ artistic daughter.
She pictured him relaxing on her sofa after the meal, the first male in her home that wasn’t a family member, friend or tradesperson in eight months.
She pictured the smile Josh had given her, the one that didn’t look mastered by countless photo shoots. The one that looked natural, not the smile of a rock star known for his seductive flirtation, but a guy who was enjoying sharing a moment of joy.
She thought of the photo of Matt hanging on her wall, staring down at Josh. The one she hadn’t been able to put into storage with the rest of his belongings.
“I don’t…” she began, her stomach churning.
“Do you remember what you said to me a lifetime ago, kiddo?” her uncle asked. “When you were seventeen and I was messed up over my feelings for Chris? Do you remember? You told me to think with my mind, listen to my heart and be true to myself.”
A thick lump filled Caitlin’s throat. She remembered that night, those words of advice she’d given her uncle when he’d doubted if he and Chris had a future together.
“You also told me the worst thing a person could do is reject themselves in fear someone else will. Aren’t you doing that now? In a roundabout kind of way?”
Raising her head, she stared at the painting Matt had given to her months ago, a breaking-up present, as it was. “I was a precocious teenager, wasn’t I?”
Liev laughed. “Hell, yeah. And an intelligent one and a stubborn one, just like you are now—smart and stubborn. But it’s time to stop being stubborn and start being a realist.”
“I feel guilty, Uncle L,” she whispered.
“Guilty?”
Her stomach rolled. “When I find myself laughing, when I find myself forgetting him, forgetting what I’m meant to be to him…I feel guilty. And even though we weren’t still together, I hate myself for forgetting him.”
“Oh, kiddo.” Concern and sympathy cut her uncle’s words. “God, I wish I was there right now. I’d hug you silly.”
A wet chuckle slipped from Caitlin. Hot tears prickled the back of her
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