Page 154 of In Love and Revenge

My stomach plummets to my feet.

‘I knew this was a bad idea. You couldn’t have screwed with someone else, could you? You had to choose my best friend,’ Dovesays, shooting me a filthy look over her shoulder as she bundles Aurora under one arm.

‘You’re coming back to my place,’ she says to her. ‘Whilst you think about what you want.’

‘What she wants?’ I choke out. ‘We love each other, Dove. We need to be together to figure this out. Tell her, Aurora.’

Aurora’s response is so quiet I have to strain to hear it. But for one brief second, heartbroken aquamarine blue meets my gaze, stealing my last thread of composure.

‘I was an idiot for ever falling in love with you.’

‘W-what? No ... don’t say that.’

I claw at my chest, everything tightening and making breathing damn near impossible.

And my heart breaks again.

I swear it cracks right back down where doctors once stitched it up. Only this time surgery won’t save me. My life’s walking away from me, right in front of my eyes.

‘Aurora! Please!’ I call, staggering after her, one hand clutching my chest.

But it’s too late.

Dove’s already guiding her through the front door.

It closes behind them with an ominous thud.

‘Brother?’ Steady hands take hold of my biceps and concerned eyes scan my face.

‘She’s gone,’ I gasp, my mouth working like a fish out of water, unable to fill my lungs as pain lances through my chest.

Gabriel’s expression remains calm as he supports me.

I sag into him, my knees threatening to buckle beneath me.

‘I’ve lost her,’ I say in a haunted croak. ‘I’ve. Lost. Her.’

Chapter 36

Aurora

Bath is such a beautiful city. The perfect place to come for a weekend away from London. To walk the streets with a lover, visit the thermal baths at dusk, then drink champagne beneath the stars.

It’s not the place to lick your wounds after suffering a betrayal so huge that your entire body physically aches like every cell in it has been broken.

I sigh and take a sip of lukewarm coffee. The wooden bench beneath my legs is cold and unwelcoming, despite the clear blue sky and warm sun. It’s like everything has ceased to exist in the same way. Things have lost their flavour. The sun has lost its warmth. A few days ago the world was multicoloured, a kaleidoscope of glittering possibilities. But all that stopped the moment I found out about Rafael’s lies.

Hearing his confession brought memories bubbling to the surface. The hard slam of the judge’s gavel, sealing my father’s fate. The sag of his shoulders as they led him away without letting me hug him. The look of guilt in his eyes like it was his fault that he was leaving me. And all that time, Rafael had played a part in putting him behind bars.All those times he kissed me, told me he loved me, did he ever feel an ounce of remorse? I guess I’ll never know.

I haven’t been able to bring myself to reply to his countless texts or listen to his voicemails. Blocking his number seemed like the kindest thing I could do for myself. Because if I speak to him, I don’t know what I’ll say. I have no words that can fully describe the extent to which he’s hurt me. Because he has. He’s torn me apart and left me in pieces.

And yet, I still love him with every fibre in my body. I still cry myself to sleep at night, missing him so much that my stomach churns with nausea. It’s a physical torment, thinking about how safe I felt inside in his arms. But it was all a lie. I preferred when he was an arsehole with his snide comments about my father. At least that was honest, and I knew where I stood with him. Now? Now I have no idea what to believe any more.

I toss the remnants of the tasteless coffee into the bin beside the bench, then pull out my phone and bring up the email. I’ve opened the attachment on it more times than I can count. I can recite every single word, yet re-read it multiple times a day to torture myself.

Actions of an astute and calculating individual. Someone with the ability to deceive and manipulate.

Bile lodges in my throat as I read Rafael’s words. He says he was only doing his job.