Nina Harrington

Her Sweet Surrender


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I never did, and you know that. You were the one who was always defending yourself. Not me.’

      ‘Your mother...’

      ‘I’m not talking about my mother. I’m talking about you and me. I would never, ever have looked down on you because of the job you did. And maybe it’s about time to get over that stupid inferiority complex of yours so that you can see all of the amazing things you have achieved in your life.’

      ‘You mean like being an international concert pianist who is able to perform in front of thousands of people? Or my wonderful career as a fashion model and cosmetics guru? Is that what you mean?’

      ‘I was in the right place at the right time and I got lucky. And you are insufferable.’

      ‘And you are deluded.’

      Amber glared at him for several seconds before she took a slow breath and shook her head slowly from side to side, before flicking her long hair back over her left shoulder.

      ‘Parents. They have a lot to answer for. And that includes mine as well as yours. It’s a good thing that we have both been able to rise above them to become so independent and calm and even-tempered.’

      ‘Isn’t it just.’

      Amber slowly lowered her legs to the floor and shuffled closer to him on the bench so that there were inches and ten years of lost time between them. So close that he could hear her breathing increase in speed with his.

      ‘Which reminds me...’ Sam smiled and released her to dive inside his jacket pocket and pull out a long slim envelope which he passed to her. ‘Happy birthday, Amber.’

      And, without waiting for her to reply, he leant forwards and kissed her tenderly but swiftly on the cheek. Lingering just long enough to inhale her scent and feel her waist under his fingertips before he drew back.

      She looked at him with wide, startled eyes. ‘Thank you. I mean, I wasn’t expecting anything. Can I... Can I open it now?’

      ‘Please. Go ahead.’

      Sam looked around the garden for the few seconds it took for her to slide a manicured fingernail under the flap of the envelope and draw out a slim piece of faded paper.

      ‘Sam? What is this? It looks like...’ And then she understood what she was holding and her breath caught at the back of her throat.

      ‘Is this what I think it is?’

      Then she shook her head and sat back away from him, head down, reading the letters in the dim light before speaking again. And this time her voice came out in one long breath.

      ‘This is the cheque my mother gave you to leave me alone.’

      She looked up at him and her gaze darted from the cheque to his face and then back to the cheque again. ‘I don’t understand. She told me that she had offered you enough cash to take you through journalism school.’

      Amber dropped the cheque into her lap and took hold of his hand, her eyes brimming with tears. ‘Why? Why didn’t you use this money, Sam? The damage had already been done.’

      Sam raised his hand and stroked her cheek with his fingertips, until they were on her temple, forcing her to look into his eyes.

      ‘Your mother knew the real thing when she saw it. I was dazzled by you, Amber. Dazzled and scared about how deep I was getting into a relationship I never saw coming. She took one look at me and saw a terrified young man who had barely survived his parents’ divorce and was determined not to make the same mistake myself. She knew that we cared about each other very much. Too much. You were so beautiful and talented and for some crazy reason you wanted to be my friend and were even willing to sacrifice your music scholarship to stay in London with me. She couldn’t let that happen.’

      Sam made a slicing motion with the flat of his hand through the air.

      ‘So she did the only thing she knew. She used my feelings for you to break us up.’

      The air was broken by the sound of Amber’s ragged breathing but Sam kept going. If ever there was a time and a place for the truth to come out, this was as good as any.

      ‘All she had to do was put the idea in my head that you were looking for a ring on your finger and a house and two kids and that was it. She didn’t need to spell it out. Staying with me would mean the end of your career as a concert pianist and my grandiose fantasy scheme to be an intrepid international reporter.’

      Sam turned to face the garden so that he could rest his elbows on his knees, only too well aware that Amber’s gaze would still be fixed on his face.

      ‘That was the weird thing. I didn’t believe her at first. I kept telling myself that she simply wanted me to leave you alone because she didn’t think that I was good enough or ambitious enough for you.

      ‘The problem was, when I went back into the party, you were talking to your rich friends from the private school who were all in designer gear and real jewels, chatting away about yacht holidays, and the more I thought about it, the more I realised that maybe she had a point. What future did we have together? If you stayed with me, I would be holding you back. You would be better taking the scholarship and spending the next three years in Paris with people who could further your career. People who sat in the back of limos. Not in the driver’s seat.’

      ‘Sam—no!’ Amber exploded. ‘How could you even think that? Why didn’t you come and talk to me about what she had said? I would have put that idea out of your head right then and there.’

      He shook his head. ‘Clever woman, your mother. She knew that my dad was on his own because my mum had walked out on us. All she had to do was plant the idea in my head that if I wasn’t good enough for my own mother—then how could I possibly be good enough for her beautiful and talented daughter who deserved the very best in life? The big chip on my shoulder did the rest.’

      Amber took his hand in hers and squeezed but he dared not look at her. Not yet. ‘It was all too much; my head was thumping with the champagne and I couldn’t deal with everything with the sound of the party going on around me. So I slipped out of the kitchen door and into the car park to get some air.’

      Sam looked up into the sky, where the stars were already bright. ‘And you know who was there, waiting for me in the convertible?’

      ‘Petra,’ she replied in a shaky voice.

      He nodded. ‘She had a bottle of champagne and two glasses and my mind was so racing with all the possibilities and problems and options that it never even occurred to me to wonder why she was outside in the first place. It was only later that I found out—Petra knew that I was going to be coming outside.’

      ‘My mother sent Petra out to wait for you? Is that what you’re saying?’

      Sam nodded. ‘Petra called a few days later to tell me that her folks were taking her to their villa in Tuscany for the whole of the summer before finishing school in Switzerland. I think she was genuinely sorry that she had been used the way she was, but by then it was too late. You had already left for Paris. It was too late. She had done it. She had broken us up.’

      Amber pushed off the bench and walked across the patio to the flower beds and stood with her back to Sam, her shoulders heaving up and down with emotion.

      Every word that Sam had said echoed around inside her head, making it impossible for her to reply to him.

      Her good arm wrapped tight around her waist, trying to hold in the explosion of confusion and regret that was threatening to burst out of her at any moment.

      And not just about what had happened on her eighteenth birthday.

      She had been so totally trusting and gullible! But the more she thought about it, the more she recognised that Sam was right. She was still dancing to her family’s tune eleven years later—and the worst thing was, she was the one who was allowing them to do it.

      So much for her great plans to make a new life for