Page 107

Spotting another tube station, I head in that direction, finally giving into the elements.

A laugh rumbles deep in my throat when I realise that I’ve stumbled onto a line that takes me right to the end of the street the Cirillo estate sits on.

Fate?

Bullshit. I don’t believe in any of that crap.

Although, I find it hard to ignore as I wait on the platform for the next train to appear.

Thankfully, the carriage is almost empty, so I don’t have a whole host of curious eyes on my battered face as I fall down into a seat, quickly creating a puddle at my feet.

Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees and squeeze my eyes closed. Going to her is the wrong thing to do.

I walked away from her for a reason.

I need to remember all the ways I’m wrong for her, all the reasons why we can’t work.

But that does little to squash the need that’s only growing within me.

I’ve gone from watching her from a distance, to being able to spend a week pretending that she’s mine.

Having that ripped away, even if it was my own fault, hurts more than I ever could have imagined.

My legs move on their own accord as the train pulls into their station, and without second-guessing my actions, I head for the stairs. In only a couple of minutes, I emerge in the rain once more.

The walk down to Evan’s is quick, and with only a few words to the soldiers guarding the place, they allow me inside believing that I’m here on official business. Idiots.

I seriously hope they’re a little more protective if a stranger—an Italian—should appear before them in the dead of night.

Lights shine brightly from the fancy living room that Cassandra has never let us inside, and as I skirt around the perimeter of the grounds, remaining hidden in the shadows, I find both Evan and Cassandra, and Jerome and Isla’s parents, are all still in there, drinking and laughing. Although, they don’t exactly appear to be having all that much fun. Their postures are stiff and their smiles fake.

That all changes when I continue around the building and find myself staring into the den.

My breath catches in my throat, pain lashing at my insides as I watch my girl laughing and enjoying herself with another man.

The two of them are in the middle of the room, dancing and laughing, and generally looking like they’re having the time of their lives.

I stare at Jerome for a few minutes as he spins her around the room, wondering if I’m looking at the same guy who always seems so dull and uptight.

It doesn’t take long to realise what it is.

It’s her.

It’s always her.

The only one who has ever peeled back my layers and wriggled her way inside my heart without even doing anything.

It seems she has a similar effect on our quiet soldier.

I lean against the tree and just watch the two of them.

It becomes obvious fast that both of them are drunk. Their dance moves are sloppy and their legs unsteady. But even with her losing control, Jerome never steps out of line. He never once touches her inappropriately or tries to take things to the next level. He just seems content to be spending time with her.

Jealousy eats me. It’s poison dripping through me until I’m sure it’s going to consume me whole.

The only bonus is that the rain has almost stopped, the air warming around me despite the fact that I’m sopping wet and shivering with every inch of my clothes soaked through.

I watch them for the longest time, and eventually, Jerome is called away to leave by his parents, and he abandons my girl in the middle of the room.