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“What are you doing?” she asks breathlessly, her heels clacking overtime to keep up with my stride. “Where are we going?”

“Out of here.”

Chapter 15

Arabella

We don’t get far. Before we’ve even made it to the double-height doors of the stuffy room, Francis and Penny are pausing in front of us. She hugs Christopher until he steps away with a groan. “Mum.”

“God, Christopher, I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

“Penny…” Francis tries to pacify her.

“Men!” she growls, hugging me with a kiss.

Before she can pry me away from him, Christopher wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me flush to his side.

“We should take our seats,” Francis says with a light squeeze of my shoulder, and when my eyes dart to his, a warm smile softens his face.

“Why don’t we go get some drinks, mill around for a bit. Your mum looks a little stuck with company…” Penelope doesn’t wait for me to follow of my own accord; she takes my hand and starts towards where Mum is talking to one of the newly appointed judges, a family friend whose granddaughter recently married an Earl. My grandmother isn’t too far, deep in conversation with his wife.

“Mercy is fine,” Christopher says gruffly, holding me tighter.

He knows. He must know something is up with the way he keeps pulling me closer and resists their nudges.

I search the room, trying to spot anything off. A face that shouldn’t be here.

“We’re leaving.” Without so much as batting an eyelash, Christopher starts for the exit, me trailing behind him as his hand slips down my arm to mine. Palms pressed together, I dodge the too-long hem of my dress.

It’s the little details that cause the most pain. The long hem of a red dress getting caught underfoot. That feeling of falling and being caught. Little details that occur in the fraction of a second. They’re the ones that cause the most devastation.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs into my ear, his arms wrapped taut around me, his chest heaving into my back.

We’re right back to the beginning of the end.

Christopher’s arms tremble as he lifts me to my feet and carries me into one of the closed-off hallways. The door he walks us through creaks as it shuts behind us.

It’s just the two of us in the faint blue, emergency lighting.

Oh fuck.

That’s all I can think when he puts me down with a tremulous sigh. His pain is palpable, and it mixes with mine like a one-hundred-proof cocktail of anguish and distress. And I want to scream. I want to break this place. I want to burn it to the ground and let it take me with it.

Christopher doesn’t say anything. He stands over me staring at the wall above my head, jaw ticking, throat bobbing dryly.

The silence around us is more terrifying than the almost darkness. You think you know love. You think you’ve got it all figured out. But it’s impossible to know it until you lose it all. Until all that’s left are the echoes of it filling the never-ending silence.

Love is nothing—it means nothing until you’ve felt its absence. And I haven’t stopped feeling it from the moment I woke up with my world in tatters.

His eyes glance down, and there isn’t a single tear. They’re not glazed over. They’re not shining with pain. They’re dark. They’re bottomless pits of anger and revolt, and for the first time since I woke up, what I see is how I feel. And I am not alone anymore.

Arms wrapping around him, I hold on as tight as I can to my strength. I squeeze until I’m certain I might crush his bones, until it feels like I’m sinking into him. Until I’m not just me. I’m us. That is so much greater than love. It’s a power, unlike any other.

Standing straight, his arms fall to his sides, fists tucking into his pockets. I have no idea how long it takes for his breaths to steady, but the tension never leaves his body. He’s wound so tight that his corded muscles bulge beneath his tux.

“Let’s go.”

“No, Christopher.” I hold on to him tighter as he pulls for the door.

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