Page 150 of Jude

I stared up at him, my chest churning with a storm of conflicting emotions.

His confession came close to swaying me, but the memory of his betrayal remained a hard-and-fast wall between us.

My soul screamed to forgive him, to throw myself into his arms.

Yet the deep, agonizing injury of his choosing a criminal’s lie over my truth remained a canyon between us.

I still did not know how to trust a man who made love to me one night and accused me of lying the next.

Chapter 31

JUDE

Sofia stared at me with such coldness that I shivered.

Her indifference felt like a blade twisting deep in me.

‘Babe?’

‘I can’t. Please let me go.’

‘No,’ I growled, my hand tightening on her arm, pulling her body flush close to mine. ‘I won’t let you go. You’re my wife. You belong with me, Sofia.’

‘Get off me, Jude,’ she hissed, her eyes flashing. ‘Right now or I’ll scream. I’ll wake this whole damn block up.’

She shoved her palms hard into my chest, putting her entire mass into the strike.

I absorbed the impact, my boots planting into the ground, before I cursed and released her.

I stepped back, chest heaving as her rejection sliced through me.

She stalked past me, threw her cleaning supplies into the passenger footwell of the blue Civic, and slid into the driver’s seat, slamming the door.

Fuck.

Her engine cranked.

Her tires spat loose gravel onto my shins as she revved the motor and drove off into the night.

That’s when I broke, and all hope leaked out of me.

I trudged to the bus stop bench, where I sank onto it.

To add to my misery, the skies above decided to unleash a storm, and soon, rain lashed down on me.

I scarcely acknowledged the driving wind and lightning, consumed by the realization that my words meant nothing to her.

Rain pelted my bare head and soaked through my shirt, icy water dripping.

At some point, the squall reduced to a drizzle.

A flash of white light illuminated the street, followed by a succession of digital shutter clicks.

I turned my heated eyes to them and narrowed my gaze.

A pack of local paparazzi must have tracked me here.

Their camera lenses protruded from the shadows of a parked van.