The-Spanish-Love-Deception-www.indianpdf

C H A P T E R T H I R T E E N
A
aron was never late. He wasn’t programmed for that kind of
careless behavior.
I knew because I had been trying to be painfully earlier than
him to every single appointment our calendars had in common for a little
more than one year and eight months. Which could only mean one thing. He
wasn’t coming.
He had seen reason and realized how ludicrous our plan was.
My plan, which he had agreed to.
Or was it the other way around? At this point, I didn’t know anymore.
Not that it mattered if he wasn’t coming.
Because that was the only reasonable explanation as to why I found
myself in the middle of the Departures terminal, under the huge panel that
displayed the status and times of all the outgoing flights, cold sweat running
down my back and no one by my side. At least, not the surly blue-eyed man
who should have been here right about now.
Gaze roaming around, I let that sink in.
I am on my own.
A wave of sheer panic curled its way down my spine. Something else too.
Something that tasted a lot like betrayal. Which didn’t make sense really.
When it came to Aaron, I wasn’t entitled to feel betrayed. Or abandoned. I
also didn’t want those emotions wreaking havoc in my head. Or my chest.
Not when I was more than able to understand why he would get cold feet.
This whole thing was crazy anyway. Total nonsense. So, why would he
go through with the insane plan I had concocted?
My eyes landed on the suitcase and the weekender bag pooled at my feet