Page 4 of Hooked On The One That Got Away (Miss Lovelock’s Agency for Broken Hearts #3)

Chapter Four

The shock had shut down Willow’s capacity for rational thought. All she could do was tread water and splutter. Charlie seemed equally stunned but was quicker to recover.

‘I, er – can I get you unhooked? You’ll need to swim a bit closer.’

Getting closer to him was the last thing Willow wanted to do.

However, she didn’t have much choice. The hook was firmly lodged where she couldn’t reach it.

Now that the initial shock had subsided and Willow’s brain could function again, she could see why Charlie had chosen this spot to fish.

The tree branches were clear of the water, and the curve of the bank had created a still pool, sheltered from the current.

Charlie had a rod licence, but he’d never been a serious angler.

He’d preferred sitting in a quiet spot, and if a passing fish chose to take his bait, then that was great.

If they didn’t, his day wasn’t spoiled. Willow could easily guess that he hadn’t expected to catch a person, let alone his former girlfriend. What were the odds of that ?

Once more, she had a sense that she was being somehow manipulated by outside forces – but she couldn’t dwell on it.

She dog-paddled over, and Charlie squatted down to remove the hook, before holding out his hand to help her up onto the bank.

Willow considered leaping like a salmon and swimming away as fast as she could.

But that would be undignified, and more importantly, would only be postponing the inevitable.

Charlie was back, and she may as well face that fact – and him – right now.

For a year, she’d tried not to imagine bumping into Charlie, as it felt far too painful.

But the odd time she’d done so, she’d pictured herself looking her absolute best. She had not been dripping wet, and in a garish swimsuit, unflattering cap and goggles that would leave unattractive red ridges on her face when she took them off.

She had to take them off, though. They were fogging up.

Charlie was staring at her, and it took all of Willow’s emotional reserves to return his gaze.

Her heart was pounding uncomfortably at the base of her throat, and her stomach fluttered and flipped.

Part of her wanted to throw her arms around him and sob into his chest. Another part wanted to punch him into next week.

Yet another part was frantically searching for something sensible to say. Again, Charlie beat her to it.

‘You’ve taken up swimming?’ he said, then grimaced. ‘Captain Obvious here, at your service.’

No , thought Willow. He has no right to make jokes. No right to be so goddamn fucking casual!

‘Sorry.’ Charlie had read her expression correctly. ‘I just – this is a massive surprise, and I don’t really know how to handle it. Resorting to jokes as always. Sorry,’ he said again.

Willow was cold now, and the adrenaline spike of the shock was fading. She began to shiver.

‘Shit, you’re freezing.’

Charlie whipped off the nubbly green jersey he was wearing over his t-shirt and offered it to her.

Willow’s desire not to become hypothermic won over her instinct to throw it in the water.

She pulled it on. It smelled like Charlie and was still warm from his body heat.

Willow wondered if the day could get any worse.

‘Can we talk?’ Charlie sounded subdued. ‘Can I – explain?’

‘Ha!’

Willow’s bark of sarcastic laughter startled both of them.

Charlie’s expression became worried and wary.

And well it might , thought Willow. She was angry again.

No, scratch that – she was furious . All this time, she’d been wondering what it was she’d done wrong when it was Charlie who felt guilty, who needed to justify his actions to her.

It was suddenly all so blindingly obvious.

‘No,’ she said. ‘No, we can’t talk. No, you can’t explain. What you did to me was unforgivable. It was deceitful and unkind. More than unkind – it was cruel . You nearly destroyed me, Charlie–’

Her voice cracked. She hugged herself for comfort, took a breath and shook her head.

‘Willow, I’m so–’

‘I have to go,’ she said, and started to walk towards the towpath.

‘But – how far away’s your stuff?’ Charlie called after her. ‘I could drive you–?'

Willow ignored him. Swim shoes weren’t great for walking, but they’d last the mile or so back to her car.

Somehow, she knew Charlie wouldn’t follow her.

This meeting, strange as it was, had felt like the closure she’d needed for a year.

She’d spoken her mind, told him how she truly felt.

Made it crystal clear how much he’d hurt her.

She’d also made it clear that she no longer needed him to explain because nothing he could say could change what he’d done.

It all felt liberating to Willow, like a weight had been lifted.

Charlie meant nothing to her now. She was free.

By the time she reached her car, Willow was warm enough to discard the jersey. She considered shoving it in a rubbish bin but instead stopped off at the local charity shop and handed it over as a donation. And then she went home to shower and change before work.