Page 52 of The Heart You Kept

For the first time in my life I am in a happy, healthy relationship with a good man, and I cannot throw it away for a sexual connection at a kink club years ago.

I won’t.

“I don’t want to see you again,” I tell him. I turn and on shaking legs I walk down the stairs and back into the ballroom and look around frantically for Pascal.

Where is he?

My heart begins to panic, I just lied to him and kissed someone else, this is not okay.

What the fuck am I even doing?

I see him across the room talking to a friend of ours and I hasten over to him. “There you are.” I smile as I put my arm around him.

“I cannot believe you know him,” he whispers as he leads me away to talk in private.

“I had no idea he was the man you knew from work. Small world, huh?” I grab another glass of champagne from a passing tray and take a gulp.

Help!

“How can you be friends with someone like that?” he asks. “He’s ruthless and will stop at nothing to get what he wants.”

My heart is thumping hard in my chest, frazzled from our connection upstairs.

Tingling lips and all.

“I’m friends with his sister,” I lie again. “I have no idea about his business affairs. We’re family friends, that’s it.”

Fuck…. Stop lying, stop it right now.

“Let’s take our seats.” I force a smile. Taking his hand in mine, I turn us both toward our table and I see Edward walk back over to the beautiful people. The gorgeous woman in the white dress slides her arm around his waist as she laughs and says something to him, he says something in return and she laughs again.

My stomach twists with jealousy.

I take a huge gulp of my champagne and puff it into my cheeks as I go over what just happened. My cheeks are on fire and I’m as flustered as all hell.

This is an actual nightmare.

We take a seat at our table; it’s round with white linen and adorned with large vases of pretty flowers in the center with silver candelabras. “It’s beautiful,” I say as I take Pascal’s hand into mine onto my lap. He twists his lips, openly angered that I know Edward.

Edward.

His name is Edward.

Another couple sits down at the table, an older man and woman in their fifties. “Hello, Pascal.” The woman smiles.

“Ah, Irena.” Pascal smiles. “Hello.” He turns to her husband. “Hello, Vonte.”

“Good to see you, Pascal.” They shake hands.

“This is my girlfriend, Alora,” Pascal introduces me.

The worst girlfriend that ever did live.

“Hello.” I smile, they begin to chat and the tables begin to slowly fill as people take their seats.

Don’t look….

I stare at the tablecloth, determined not to look Edward’s way. For what reason though I’m just not sure. Is it because I want to be with Pascal or is it that I don’t want to see him…. Or is it because I don’t want to see him with her?