“What happened just now proves it.”
Her nostrils flare. “You’re going to regret this.”
“I already do.”
“And what are you going to do?” she shouts. “Tell Margot? Tell Jean? That you slept with their precious Ember when she was still in college?”
I turn back, dead calm. “What I tellmyfamily is my business. You don’t get to touch our story.”
She stares at me like she doesn’t recognize me. Maybe she doesn’t. Maybe I’m only now starting to become who I should’ve been all along.
“I’m in love with you,” she says again, like that’s supposed to matter now.
But all I see is a woman who only loves the idea of me. Not someone I can trust. Not someone I can turn to when I make a mistake. Not someone I can lean on.
That was Ember.IsEmber.
And I ruined that.
“I’ll make sure there’s a car here tomorrow at seven in the morning to take you to Zurich. After that, you’re on your own.”
I leave the library. I don’t slam the door even though I want to.
I hate myself for what I did to Ember, the things I said.
Damn it!
I know words are powerful, which is why I’m usually careful, steady. But anger and fear are a nasty combination, and I blurted out utter bullshit, not that Ember will believe me.
But as I walk around the chalet to find her, something flickers under the self-loathing.
A resolve to make it right.
To live my life fully.
To win her back.
CHAPTER 17
Ember
I’m not a big crier. But when I do, it’s like the floodgates are opened up.
I remove the ridiculous hat and emeralds, throwing them on a wicker chair in the orangerie. The room is bathed in the soft glow of fairy lights strung along the rafters.
Outside, the snow falls in gentle silence, muffling the world.
Inside, the air is thick with the scent of chlorine from the pool and citrus from the orange trees.
I wrap my arms tightly around myself, with my knees drawn up on the wicker loveseat.
I’ve been crying for what feels like an hour—quiet, contained tears that burn more than a scream ever could, leaving my throat raw and aching.
I hear the creak of the door behind me, but I don’t look up.
“Em. Baby.”
I stiffen. “Go away,” I say petulantly on a hiccupping sob.
