The thought of him slips into my mind unbidden, unwelcome. Jonathan, who knows my flaws and loves me anyway. Jonathan, who makes me feel alive in a way Calum never could. Jonathan, married to my cousin.
I take another sip of wine, the bitterness settling on my tongue. Tomorrow, I tell myself. I’ll figure it out tomorrow. Tonight, I just need to breathe.
But even as I close my eyes, I know there’s no escaping the choice I’ve made. No escaping the storm I’ve set in motion.
Are you awake?
The message sends, the faint whoosh carrying it into the ether, and I curse myself. But almost immediately, the screen lights up.
Always. Where are you?
I hesitate. My thumb hovers over the keyboard, but then I type the words that will undo me.
The Chelsea. Room 120.
It takes less than ten minutes.
When the knock comes, I’m already at the door, mybreath shallow, my pulse erratic. I hesitate for half a second, fingers on the cool brass handle, before pulling it open.
Jonathan stands there, his hair damp from the rain, his tie slightly loosened. His suit jacket is nowhere to be seen, and his expression—always so composed, so carefully indifferent—is raw tonight.
“You shouldn’t have texted me,” he says, but he steps inside anyway. His voice is low, edged with something dangerous.
“You shouldn’t have come,” I counter, closing the door behind him. The lock clicks into place, the sound louder than it should be.
For a moment, we just stand there, staring at each other. The room feels smaller with him in it, the air heavier. His eyes, dark and searching, rake over me, lingering on my hand where the ring glints faintly in the dim light.
“So it’s true,” he says, his voice breaking slightly. “He proposed.”
I nod, unable to find my voice.
“And you said yes.”
Another nod. The tension in the room is unbearable, the silence electric. I watch as his jaw tightens, his hands balling into fists at his sides.
“Why?” The word is a whisper, a plea. “Why him, Annabel?”
“Because he’s safe,” I say, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “Because he’s steady and sure and everything I should want.”
“Should,” Jonathan echoes, stepping closer. His presence is overwhelming, his heat, his intensity. “But not what youdowant. Not what youfeel.”
I can’t argue with him. I can’t look away from him, my heart rattling with a slow-building rage. “Why her?”
His eyes falter to the ground. “Because I loved you somuch I started to hate you. I wasn’t thinking straight–I only wanted you to feel the pain I’ve been feeling.”
“Revenge?” I shake my head. “I knew it. You don’t feel love, it’s only selfish hatred that lives in your soul. You’re cruel.” Hot tears leak from my eyes.
“I–I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“She’s not even twenty! You’re a monster!”
“Only when I’m not with you–seeing you with him makes me want to murder him just to make the pain go away. Makes me want to murder you–”
“Jonathan...” I start, but he cuts me off, his voice rising.
“You love me. I know you do. Don’t stand there and tell me otherwise,” his words are seething, accusatory.
“Love isn’t enough,” I say, my voice trembling. “It’s not enough to build a life on.”
