If you know where to look, Diana Marchetti iseverywhere.
I reach across and snatch his phone, clicking it to turn the screen dark. I haven’t watched a single video of her since she left, but every so often, Lizzie sends me a link accompanied by a message that reads something like, ‘Look at this! Isn’t Diana doing well?’
And she is. She’s doing really well, making a name for herself. I’m so proud, it’s unreal.
She doesn’t need me at all. I’m glad of it because I know she hated being dependent, but sometimes it feels likeIneedher. The penthouse is empty without her, and that buzz I used to feel opening my front door, knowing I’d find her inside waiting for me, is gone.
“She was never my bit on the side,” I say, straining to keep the bitterness from my voice.
“Who’d have thought it?” Henry says, turning to face us. “Rafe Bastion, rejected by a woman half his age.”
In my mind, I hear Diana’s words from the night at the opera.I can’t imagine anyone wanting to leave you.And yet she did just that.
I rub my fingertips over my forehead. “Sometimes I wonder why we’re friends. And she’s not half my age. That’s an exaggeration.”
Julian’s smirk vanishes, and he leans in, brow furrowed. “We know this is tough.”
I clench my teeth, shooting him adon’t-you-fucking-dare-get-soft-on-melook. His teasing might be irritating, but the last thing I need is sympathy from Julian Maxstead.
“It’s not a good look on you, Rafe.” Henry points to my face. “Pining. You’re wasting away. Are you still swimming?”
I flinch. “No.”
Henry exhales a slow sigh, pity filling his gaze. “You look like you need feeding. Please, eat a decent meal when you get home.”
“I’m fine,” I retort, although I could probably eat more. I’ve replaced at least half my suits because I’ve lost weight.
“Give Melanie another go,” Julian says, his voice softer than usual. “She’s everything you need, I swear. Beautiful, successful, interesting.”
“Not only that,” Henry adds, stepping towards us, hands back in his pant pockets. “Did you know she’s on the board of that luxury goods conglomerate? What’s it called? The one Arthur Knatchbull heads up.”
“Knatchbull Luxury Goods,” I fill in, raising an eyebrow to imply he ought to have remembered.
“Yeah. That one.” Henry snaps his fingers. “Anyway, she could keep up with you in business terms.”
I shoot him a glare. “If you’re so keen on her, why don’t you take her out yourself?”
“Because she likes you.” He pauses, wincing. “And she laughs like a hyena. I can’t hack the noise.”
“You’d be fine,” I hit back. “You’re not remotely funny.”
Julian snorts, and Henry lets out a rollicking laugh, but I’m not paying either of them any attention because it’s raining, and all I can think about is Diana telling me we should have kissed in the rain.That’s the next beat.
How many opportunities did I miss with her? How many times could I have kissed her and held her and made love to her? I let them slip through my fingers because I was so fucking desperate to prove I didn’t want her. Desperate lies I told myself over and over.
I had her. I fucking had her in my house, in my bed, and I let her go.
It’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.
“So,” Julian says. “You going to tell Lizzie?”
“Tell her what?”
“That you fucked her best friend.”
I drop my head into my hands. “No, of course I’m not going to tell her. I’m going to take it to my grave.”
“No one likes a liar, Rafe,” Henry interrupts. “And these things always come out in the wash.”
