Page 133 of Bitter Prince

His words had torn my heart out of my chest and sliced it with blades into tiny little pieces. I couldn’t even think about moving on, and he had a woman already lined up. I thought I loved and was loved in return. I thought the world would be a better place with him—with us—together. Now, I questioned it all. My hope for a future with him was gone, but my love remained. I clung to it with bloody fingers, refusing to let go of the tattered remains.

I curled up on the hallway floor and pulled my knees to my chest. My eyes burned as wretched, soul-shattering tears streamed down my face. I tried to stop the pieces of my obliterated heart from crushing my soul, but it was like trying to stop the rain from falling or the wind from blowing.

Something inside me broke, and there was no putting it back together.

I didn’t know how long I sat in the hallway of our apartment, alone and forsaken. Maybe it was a few minutes, maybe hours. I might’ve sat there forever had the door not opened and a gasp echoed through the air. A pair of gentle hands cupped my face, and I met my sister’s gaze.

“What happened?” she mouthed, making me long to hear her voice.

Somehow, it made me cry even more. I buried my face into my sister’s chest as one hand wrapped around me while her other stroked my hair. I cried, shaking as my muscles ached from the force of my sobs.

“What happened?” Isla must have stepped out into the hallway.

You’re my favorite flavor, cinnamon girl.

He lied. It was all a lie.

Every kiss. Every whisper. Every word. Every moment. All of it.

I couldn’t breathe. Tears blurred my vision. Sobs rattled my body, and somehow I knew I’d never be the same.

Go love someone else.

I broke. I screamed my lungs raw for him, letting them burn and damage my vocal cords. The pain didn’t scratch the surface of the one burning in my heart. My hands slid into my hair, gripping the strands and pulling them taut. I wanted to feel the words rip from my brain. I wanted to forget.

My friends surrounded me, held me, suffocated me, spoke to me. I couldn’t hear any of it. Just his voice, telling me not to love him. Telling me I’d be good for someone else. Just not him.

My sister rocked me in her embrace. Her almost soundless “shhh” turned my screams into whimpers. My friends’ whispers and movements didn’t register. One minute I was on the floor and the next in the bathroom. I stood like a zombie, my mind lost in Amon’s apartment, going over every word. His every move.

I caught my reflection in the mirror. Pale face. Red-rimmed eyes. Broken heart and soul staring back at me. My curls were a tangled mess and the image of Amon wrapping them around his finger flashed in my mind. I smashed my fist against the mirror, cracking it into two. I did it again and again, blood smearing over it.

This time, the reflection portrayed me adequately. Broken and bloody.

I didn’t know how I got to bed, but hours later, maybe even days later, I lay in my bed, staring into the darkness with a broken heart while images of Amon played in my mind, eating me alive.

The whispers of his voice were a constant agony in my heart. My thoughts were slowly tearing me apart. I tried not to think, but the silence was destroying me too. How could he have made so many promises and not meant a single one?

Saltiness stained my lips and I realized I was crying again.

My friends tried their best to soothe me. Phoenix made me take a bath after they’d bandaged my hand. Still, I heard their whispers and saw their worried glances. My sister threatened to kill Amon, but thankfully Isla convinced her to stay with me rather than go seek him out.

And the whole time, I couldn’t find the energy to utter a single word. Instead, I went to bed, seeking solitude. This must be what drowning felt like: lying in the dark and listening to the rain outside.

Why did it always rain when we were sad? It rained the day we buried Mamma too.

Hot tears trickled down my cheek. I didn’t bother wiping them away. I let them flow freely, silently, while quiet screams suffocated me, shredding me into pieces that would never fit back together the same.

Out of the billions of hearts in this world, I fell for the one that refused to beat for me.

54

REINA, THREE MONTHS LATER

Stepping out of the cab, I could smell the crisp autumn air. October used to be my favorite season. I didn’t have a favorite season anymore.

I was almost swallowed up in the surging crowd of fancy ball gowns, diamonds, and tuxedos. My pink midi dress didn’t belong here.

Neither do you, my mind warned on a whisper, but my heart ignored it.