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"For what it's worth," Rob said, standing up and tucking the ring box back into his pocket, "if he was stupid enough to let you go, he doesn't deserve to get you back."
After he left, I sat on that swing until the stars came out, thinking about Edward and Daphne and the way love could be used as a weapon when it fell into the wrong hands. Rob was wrong about one thing—Edward hadn't let me go.
I'd run. And maybe that made all the difference.
My phone buzzed with another text from Cece:
Cece:Darling, I'm dying to know—how's your heart? And don't you dare lie to me. I can detect emotional evasion from across an ocean.
I stared at the message for a long time before typing back:
Me:Still broken. Still beating. Still his, even though I hate admitting it.
Cece:Want to talk about it? I've got wine and zero judgment.
Me:Tell me the truth about something. Was Edward really just using me? Or was he as blindsided by Victoria's schemes as I was?
The response took longer this time. When it came, my heart nearly stopped:
Cece:Oh honey. You don't know, do you? He didn't know about any of it. The sped up acquisition, the photographers, the manipulation of financial figures—Victoria orchestrated everything without telling him.
I read Cece's message three times, each word hitting me like a separate blow to the chest. Edward hadn't known. All thosenights I'd lain awake replaying every conversation, looking for signs that he'd been using me, searching for clues that his touches were calculated—and he'd been just as blindsided as I was.
"Oh God," I whispered to the empty porch.
My hands were shaking so hard I nearly dropped the phone. "He must think I ran because I believed he was guilty."
I typed back with trembling fingers:
Me:Cece, tell me everything. How long has he known?
Cece:Just found out last week according to James. Apparently there was a massive family confrontation. Edward's barely spoken to Victoria since.
Me:I accused him of using me.
I typed, my vision blurring with tears.
Cece:Then he thinks you left because you believed the worst of him instead of fighting for what you had together.
The truth hit me like a physical blow. I hadn't just run from Edward—I'd run from us.
I closed my eyes, and suddenly I was back in Edward's bedroom at the Sussex estate, watching him sleep in the early morning light. His face had been so peaceful then, so different from his usual controlled expression.
I remembered waking up in his arms that morning, how he'd traced lazy patterns on my bare shoulder while I pretended to still be asleep. "You know what scares me most about you?" he'd whispered.
"What?" I'd murmured against his chest.
"How right this feels. How easy it would be to forget everything I thought I knew about what I was supposed to want." His arms had tightened around me. "Promise me something, Lili."
"Anything."
"Promise me you'll tell me if this world gets to be too much. If my family, if the pressure, if any of it makes you want to run." His voice had been so serious, so vulnerable. "Promise you won't just disappear without giving me a chance to fix whatever goes wrong."
And I'd kissed him instead of promising, thinking it was sweet but unnecessary. Thinking nothing could go wrong when we fit together so perfectly, when every touch felt like coming home to myself.
I'd broken that promise without even realizing I'd made it. And maybe it was time to keep it, even if I was three weeks and an ocean too late.
"You are so beautiful," he'd whispered against my skin that night. "So much stronger than you know. Being with you makes me want to be better than what my family raised me to be."