Page 115

The only reason she pauses is to breathe. She’s yelling so hard that exhaustion is already creeping into her voice.

That’s why I asked for her room to be placed between empty ones. So her friend wouldn’t hear her, and neither would any of the other guests.

“Selene…”

“Don’t say my name,” she cuts in furiously.

I’ve never seen her like this before. Never imagined she could look at someone with this much hatred.

And, of course, I’m the lucky bastard who made her look at me that way.

“You decided a few days were enough for me to forget?”

She takes two steps closer to me, then stops at a distance that makes one thing painfully clear—she doesn’t want me close to her. Her arms fold tightly over her chest, almost as though she needs the barrier.

“You decided enough time had passed for me to forget what I saw?”

The final words come out broken and difficult to understand. Partly because her accent takes over again, but mostly because tears are choking her voice.

Fucking hell.

This is my fault.

I did this to her.

I should’ve done what I wanted from the start and gone after her the same day she ran. I should’ve hired the detective the moment she walked out of Ethan’s house instead of giving her the space I thought she needed.

“Babe, please…”

“Don’t fucking dare call me that ever again,” she screams through sobs and broken breaths.

No matter how hard I try, I can’t control myself anymore.

I reach for her and grab her wrists.

She fights instantly, trying to shove me away, trying to break free, but I pull her to me effortlessly and settle her in my lap.

“Let me go,” she repeats over and over, her voice growing weaker each time, each repetition carrying more pain than the one before.

Closing my eyes, I sigh, because I can’t stand seeing her like this, and then I pull her tightly against my chest.

The second her perfume fills my lungs, another wave of life rushes through me. Enough strength to keep going. Enough to stop myself from giving in to her demands.

Crying uncontrollably, she buries her face in my chest, her body finally going soft in my arms.

With my nose buried in her hair, I force myself not to react, not to say anything. Every instinct tells me to hold her tighter, to promise her I can fix this somehow, but I know nothing I say now will make the pain disappear.

She cries violently for more than ten minutes, so hard I’m scared she’ll make herself sick. The trembling running through her body shakes me completely, a helplessness I’ve never had to face before settling in my chest.

“You’re the reason I’m like this,” she says at one point. “You can’t also be the person trying to comfort me.”

She lifts her head from my chest, and this time, I don’t stop her. I let her stand and move away from me.

She remains with her back to me for several moments, shoulders rising and falling unevenly, before finally turning around again.

“I don’t know why you came here,” she says, “but I promise you came all this way for nothing.”

Gesturing toward the door, she adds firmly, “Please leave. Absolutely everything between us ended the moment I found out who you really are.”