Page 116 of Unapologetic Love Story

His face crumpled and she knew it was because no one had ever done that. Not outside of his family. He was tolerated by so many, only because of his writing. They wanted the crowd that followed him. They wanted his cutting tongue.

They didn’t want his soul. Not the way she did.

They were the same. Both unmasked and miserable because their little bubble had been burst.

Raina glanced back at the house. The lights. The rose garden. A beautiful night that had been marred by the same old, familiar ugliness.

‘It somehow always ends like this,’ she said softly. ‘But I never learn.’

He reached out again to take her face in his hands. This time, she allowed it. But she couldn’t look at him. His thumbs stroked her tear-stained cheeks and he pressed his forehead to hers.

‘I love you,’ he breathed. ‘I’ve loved you since that crazy vase in the rain. If my heart is a fucking compass, then you’re my due north. You always will be, no matter what I do. I’m so fucking sorry for all of it but you can’t go, Raina. I can’t ever unlove you, it’s never going to happen. I will spend the next fifty thousand years making it up to you, and you can hate me and take it all out on me, but you can’t go.’

She stared into his handsome face. His desperate eyes. He was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen and it hurt like hell. When she spoke, her voice sounded hollow.

‘I’m pretty sure I love you, too, but I can suppress that. I can lock it away, along with all of the other glorious things people like me aren’t supposed to have.’

But I’ll never get over you, she thought sadly. What a waste. But, in the maelstrom of a potential meltdown, she wanted safe lighting. Safe foods. Safe textures. Safe fabrics. Safe routines.

And a love like theirs was anything but safe.

She closed her eyes. Another tear dropped to the corner of her mouth and she could taste the salt. ‘Goodbye, Tom.’

She broke away from him and climbed into the passenger seat of the car, and Solana took off. Neither of them looked back at the mansion house, or the overcome writer standing by the rose garden at the front of it. Both sisters stared ahead, bleary-eyed.

Only when they were out of view did Raina double over and sob. She howled until she had no voice left, while her finger left a small red stain on the flapper dress someone else had put on her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Tom watched the car pull away and felt like his heart was inside of it. The only thing that got his body to limber up and move was rage. A pulsing, pounding poison which needed to be projected onto someone.

He knew who. He knew exactly who.

He tore back to the house – no fucks given to any waiting security. Some of the guests had left, leaving only those in desperate need of gossip or another scene. Tom was willing to give them one. His eyes scanned the area before landing on Seb, who was trying to reason with some of the catering staff for more alcohol.

‘You!’ roared Tom, moving forcefully through onlookers to reach his former friend. No, never a friend. Tom knew that now. ‘And So It Goes’ by Billy Joel was playing and something cracked beneath Tom’s shoe. He looked down. He was standing on the scattered toothpicks. The sight of them caused a ripple of fury to pass through his body like an electric shock. He kicked them to the side and glared at Seb. ‘What the fuck was all that?’

Ottie emerged from behind a column, staring at him in confusion. Tom’s gaze snapped to her, and he channelled all of the hatred, disappointment and betrayal he was feeling into it.

‘Mate, I know, I know,’ Seb said, his voice a little frantic. ‘She’s embarrassing. I know—’

‘Me embarrass you?’ Ottie hissed at her fiancé. ‘Don’t be stupid.’

‘Why did you do it?’ Tom asked. He felt close to losing all control. ‘She was only ever nice to you. Did you want to ruin my life? Fuck up the only good thing in it? Well done, you’ve succeeded. She was my fucking everything and now . . .’

Ottie’s confusion bled into fear. ‘But she was . . . just a story. I mean . . . I just told the truth.’

‘That wasn’t the truth. You’re cold-hearted. You’re poison.’

He watched her realize the strength of his feelings. He watched as she tried to explain them away in her mind. They clearly didn’t make sense to her. When she eventually found her voice, it was full of venom.

‘Fuck you, Tom,’ she spat back. ‘You’ve known me years. You only just met her. And she’s changed you completely. She’s sucked all the fun out of you.’

Tom stared at her, as if finally seeing her true self for the first time. It was like a spell had lifted. He recalled years of eye-rolls and snide remarks and a level of discomfort he’d learned to quash. Birthday dinners where Ottie had sat silently while the cake was brought out for someone else, not a sound coming from her lips. He thought of her sneering at Raina and the women belting out ABBA on the Thames. ‘You don’t sing, Ottie.’

Nothing could have surprised her more. She blinked at his words. ‘Sorry?’

‘It’s funny. My mum, back in Scotland . . . she always said, when she was alive, “Never trust a creature that won’t sing. A creature with no music in their heart. It means they have no soul.” You have no soul, Ottie. That’s why you did what you did tonight. It’s why you’ll never be happy. It’s what has made me feel sorry for you all these years. I could never put my finger on it. But that’s it. You’re a vampire. You’re soulless.’