Honey Smiles // Harry Styles Series #3 - Jamaica

Prologue - Athens

"But Caroline, how can I marry you, knowing that there might be an even greater love out there for me? It wouldn't be fair to me, or Lucie, or you. And I do care about you, I do love you... just not the way you wanted me to."

My, until recently, completely devoted fiancé seemed to have forgotten who pursued whom, and who had cried tears of joy when I said yes.

We had agreed to meet in a café at the Athens airport, and I was not going to make a scene.

"I wish I could explain it, what Lucie and I have found..." he sighed like the hero of a Hallmark holiday movie.

Lucie. Whom he had met in the market square of Marrakech while I haggled over a sun hat. Who had 'tagged along' with us around the city over the next two days. Who had 'run into' us in Istanbul two weeks later. With whom he had finally disappeared, from Santorini, three days ago.

Lucie Gallant, daughter of a Texan new money millionaire, with Texas-sized bleach blonde hair and Texas-sized breasts that her daddy gave her for her twenty first birthday. Which had been just over a year ago.

Phillip took my hand and I took it right back as he looked at me with his big chocolate brown eyes. Two months ago I would have called them warm and loving and protective. Two days ago I would have called them cold and heartless. Now they were nothing. At least that's what I told myself.

"The ring is yours. It was given to you in love, and it's yours."

He made me want to vomit.

I pulled it from my pocket, set it on the table, and flicked it like a fifty thousand dollar paper football in his general direction.

Leaning forward slightly as he scooped it up, he scanned the area to make sure no one had seen my action, and whispered, "There's no need to be dramatic."

That statement was incorrect in so many ways and on so many levels that I remained silent, not knowing where or how to begin. Of course he took this as acquiescence, and continued.

"I'll have Ted and Amelia come and get my things from your apartment. They'll want to see you, but don't worry, I've explained everything and it shouldn't be uncomfortable."

How on earth had he explained his desertion of me to his siblings in a way that might make our meeting anything less than excruciating?

"You're leaving Greece?" He sounded hopeful.

"I have a seven o'clock flight tonight"

"Would you like me to wait with you until you go?"

It may have been shaking with emotion, but my voice was quiet. "Jesus, Phillip, are you serious? Do I want you to wait with me? I can say 'no' in at least twelve languages. Which shall I start with?"

"I'm just trying to make sure you're safe, Caroline." I actually snorted. "Look, there's just one last thing..." Here we go, I thought, as he again took my hand. At least he had the good sense to look embarrassed as he continued. "Lucie and I, we... we'd like to continue the trip, since you're going home. Would you mind terribly?"

I shook my head no as I pulled my hand away. Unbelievable. He was asking if I minded him finishing our engagement trip with his new girlfriend. I could have fought him on it, but why?

"No, Phillip. It was your idea, you paid for it, you should go." A tear, then two, escaped my eyes. "And once you're gone, leave me alone. Don't call, don't text, don't even think of me.

"And one last thing. Go through every reservation we've made - hotels, tours, hell, a tuk-tuk in Bangkok - no matter how insignificant, and you change my name to hers. If I ever find out that bean-brained Barbie has been mistaken for me, or called by my name, I will find you and I will make sure you're as much of a eunuch as a Ken doll. Is that understood, Mr. Cooke?"

He had the decency to look pained. "Perfectly."

We stood, and Phillip extended his hand as though we'd just concluded a business deal. I suppose in a way we had. I ignored him completely, turning to walk away, maintaining my composure. I managed to keep calm as I staked out a quiet corner in the first class lounge, but as I crawled into my pod on the plane the floodgates loosed. I cried and slept, slept and cried, all the way to JFK. Mom was waiting at the airport.

We didn't speak until we were in the cocoon of the car. I was glad she'd come in the Bentley so Michael could drive while she enveloped me in her arms and the soft, fresh scent of lavender.

"Oh my dear, dear girl. I've been thinking..."

That was code for 'I already have a plan.' Fortunately for me, her plans were notoriously perfect.

"Let me mother you for a little while, and then we'll find someplace for you to be alone. To find yourself again. The little bungalow at Cerise Schuster's place in Jamaica will be free next month..."