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ever be able to make a living off her art, and that dream will
probably die for her.”
Dani hardly ever cried. She’d learned the hard way that
tears did nothing. They meant nothing. Right now, though, she
felt the hot prick of tears stinging behind her eyelids. She
blinked hard. Radcliffe was a formidable opponent. He was
utterly ruthless. Dani didn’t know if he was fighting for
himself or if he was fighting for Emily.
She assumed that whatever deal he was going to present
wrote her out of the equation as far as a suitable partner for
Emily went. It would be dependant on their annulment, on
them not seeing each other again. Radcliffe knew Dani was
smart enough to figure that out. He hadn’t underestimated her
like she’d first thought.
Did he see how attached she was to Emily after only a few
days? Had Emily said something to her parents that led them
to believe there was something between them? Or could
Radcliffe see it all on Dani’s face because she’d been so
utterly stupid and despite all her rules, her past experience,
she’d wanted to believe this was a good thing and that good
things sometimes did happen and that they sometimes did last?
She was wrong. How many times would she have to learn
that the hard way before she finally just believed it? What
would it take to make her lose that stupid hope she thought
she’d squashed a long time ago, but still apparently clung to?
Survival. That’s all that mattered in the long run. Some
people thought happiness was the one thing worth striving for
in life, but Dani knew better. It was surviving. It was carrying
on, day after day, just getting through it on one piece. If you
could be happy doing that, then that was just an unexpected
