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I don’t ever want to see him again.
There is nothing he can say that will take away what he’s done or the hurt he’s caused my beloved brother.
A new rush of pain seeps through another layer in my heart.
“Spencer,” I cry. “My love. Why?” I howl. “Why did he do this, Edward, why?”
“Shh.”
I hear the car horn again and Spencer screams my name. “Charlotte!”
“Make him go away,” I cry.
“They’re taking him now. Dad is at the police station taking out a restraining order against him as we speak. He won’t be able to come here at all without being arrested soon.”
The thought that he can’t legally come here anymore breaks my heart even further, and I cry uncontrollably.
“I’m sorry I let this happen,” Edward whispers against my hair. “This is all my fault.”
“Charlotte!” Spencer screams again, and I slap my hands over my ears.
“Make it stop, Edward, make it stop.”
“Charlotte, please… I love you,” Spencer yells, his voice breaking. “I love you.”
The guards begin to shout, and then there’s a commotion. I know that Spencer is struggling with them to try to get to me.
I pull out of Edward’s arms and roll into a ball on my bed, holding my hands over my ears as I cry hysterically.
Make.
The.
Pain.
Stop.
Spencer
I stare at my computer, looking at pictures of myself outside the restaurant.
But all I see is Charlotte’s hurt face.
Every tabloid, every magazine, everyone knows I slept with Penelope—Charlotte’s brother’s wife. Her damn sister-in-law.
To make it worse, someone even filmed what Penelope was saying in the restaurant. It’s been played over and over and over.
Everywhere.
It’s not even true.
Did I sleep with her? Yes.
Did I know she was married? No.
I had no idea what her real name was. I hooked up with her a few times and she told me she was divorced. I saw her at a club one night and we went back to her house.
What I thought was her house, anyway.
