The waiter pours the wine we ordered and leaves us in peace in the private room I booked.
“To our long and happy future together.” I hold up my glass.
She does the same. “To us.”
We clink glasses, and I take a long sip.
She doesn’t.
I frown. “Are you feeling okay?”
She puts her glass down solemnly. “No, I’m not okay.”
My lips tighten into a thin line, and I cock my head. “What’s going on?”
In the blink of an eye, deep sobs replace her smile. Tears drip down her face, mascara running along with them. “How could you?”
I frown, my eyebrows pinching together. “How could I do what?”
She chokes on her tears, and I jump up, moving toward her. I kneel in front of her, taking her hands in mine.
“Rialta, talk to me. Tell me what happened. What’s wrong?”
I never kneel.
I never beg.
I never let myself care about anyone new—not like I do now.
But whatever answer she gives, I want her to know that I would move mountains and take down every man in the world single-handedly to make whatever pain she’s dealing with better.
“Kit,” she squeaks out, and my heart stops.
She still loves him.
She still wants him.
And if she does,she can have him.
My heart tries to stab me for having that thought, for considering letting her go.She’s mine,it says.
“Kit,” she sobs his name again.
It feels like a stab to my own heart.
Finally, she looks at me with daggers in her eyes. “You killed Kit.”
Three simple words and I know I’ve lost her forever.
Her hands pull from mine as she stands up, pushing her chair back.
I try to stand to talk to her, to tell her the truth, but I can’t move.
Why can’t I fucking move?
“Well done, Rialta,” Andrea says as he enters the spinning room growing foggier by the second.
What the hell?