Page 24 of Torn By Fate

Because of my sins, I didn’t think my father cared if I lived or died.

Arabella: Serafina.

One word. My name in text carried the same weight it always did when she said it aloud in that solemn voice of hers—that particular blend of exasperation and love that made my world feel a little less threatening.

Arabella: Listen to me. If you’re ever in trouble, real trouble, you come to me. You understand? You tell me where you are and I will send someone to get you. I will do everything I can. I have resources. Killian has resources. You don’t have to do this alone.

I read it twice. The words blurred slightly on the second pass, and I blinked hard, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes.

Arabella had always been like this, the person who offered concrete help rather than vague sympathy, who didn’t ask if you needed anything but instead told you what she was going to do.

It was a quality I’d spent my life surrounded by but rarely encountered without strings attached. Arabella didn’t care what I could do for her.

Her adoration didn’t come under conditions.

She simply cared. Truly. Deeply.

Arabella: You mean a lot to me. You know that, right? I hate that you’re going through whatever this is and I can’t fix it. I hate that you’re in some hotel room alone and I can’t do anything about it.

I stared at her message for a long minute before I finally typed a response.

Me: How are the girls?

I sent it before I could reconsider. The deflection was transparent and I knew she’d see through it, but the alternative was me spilling my truth to her… and I knew Arabella wasn’t ready for it. My ugly, deceptive truth. And the things I had done that led me where I was today.

Not that I regretted any decisions I had made.

Every lie, every choice was intentional.

There was a pause. I could almost hear her sigh through the phone.

Arabella: Fine. We’ll circle back to your situation later.

Arabella: The girls are walking now. Full-on, unstoppable walking. They’re absolutely devious. They’ve figured out that if one of them distracts me, the other can make a break for the stairs. Cameron caught Lydia halfway down the stairs yesterday, and I nearly had a heart attack. He carried her back up and then stood guard at the top step for twenty minutes.

A real smile pulled at my mouth.

Me: Such a protective older brother. Though, I believe he’s going to be insufferable when he’s older.

Arabella: He already is. Killian’s influence, obviously.

Me: Do you want more? Kids, I mean.

The three dots appeared and disappeared twice before her response came.

Arabella: No. I love my three babies, and the doctors were clear after the girls. It’s not safe for me to carry another pregnancy, and Killian won’t even discuss it.

Arabella: He would never put me in a position that could harm me, and we’re both well aware of the risks...

This was the kind of devotion that existed in Arabella’s world but not in mine. She had a husband who adored her… and well, my husband was a monster in disguise.

He was heartless. Cruel and ruthless in his ways.

Me: Killian is a good man.

Arabella: He is. And you deserve someone who would do the same for you.

I didn’t respond to that. There was nothing to say that wouldn’t sound either bitter or delusional, and I was trying very hard to be neither. My friend deserved happiness.