Page 105 of A Cruel Kindness

I let myself pretend not to notice for a second longer, pretending to still be in a dazed sleep.

That was the only way my heart wouldn’t rip to shreds.

It struck me that we’d woken up together yesterday, that our lives had fallen to shit so fantastically in a few short hours.

I should have listened to my gut. From the second I left Muli the Bond was prattling around in my head anxiously, knowing something was coming before I did.

When I saw the look on Bellamy’s face after she’d spoken to her father, that should have told me everything I needed to know.

Even then, I’d waited until the news fell from her lips to believe it.

The worst part of it all was that her acceptance of the Prince’s offer made me love her more.

I was pretty sure I’d been half in love with her for weeks, and the trip back had only solidified it. Even with the pressure of my family and court nonsense and prying eyes, she’d stood by me the entire time. I’d wanted her to.

She was gracious and kind and knew what was right and this fucking engagement was another example of her commitment to those values.

I couldn’t fault her for it. I couldn’t get mad at her for it.

I just wished it didn’t hurt so fucking much.

The entire ride back to the Bridge, I was haunted by an onslaught of images, each of which made me more and more inclined to steal her away and hope she’d eventually forgive me.

Her marrying that fucking awful Prince.

Her walking down an aisle of wildflowers away from me, rather than towards me.

Her having his child.

The thought of that man touching her made me want to punch him until his face caved in—not that I knew what he looked like.

He was probably some annoyingly handsome prick who’d been pruned and fawned over his entire life. He didn’t get to have my girl.

And yet that seemed to be what was happening.

She would marry him and I would try to stay alive so that she could too.

It was that thought that had me carefully extracting myself from her hold. When she muttered a sleepy sounding plea, nothing more than a groan, I almost lost it.

That was the other fucked up part of this whole thing. If I could distract myself with liquor or women or anything else, I might be able to survive it, but she’d ruined that all for me.

She would own liquor. Whether it was the surprised look on her face when she’d tried Muli whiskey for the first time or the taste of her lips after champagne.

She owned every kiss and beyond that, stealing any hope for something better.

She owned every smile, every laugh, every story told by her perfect mouth.

All but running out of the room to keep from mauling her, I burst outside, hoping the crisp morning air would help me calm down.

Ford was already awake, sitting on the steps with a cup of coffee. The second my foot hit the deck, his arm extended with a second mug in it.

“You’re such a romantic,” I quipped as I sat down next to him.

I saw the edge of his smirk before I looked forward, watching as the morning fog slowly drifted away. “Figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep.”

A bitter laugh was all he was getting in response. Not because I wouldn’t talk to him about it, but because I didn’t think I could talk about it at all.

I sipped my coffee, the building warmth enough to cause me to ask, “Why are you up so early?”