Page 144 of Kiss Me Like I Didn't Kill You

Possession and pride surge through me, deeply satisfying. I can’t help the faint smirk when she catches where my gaze has landed and answers it with a small scowl.

Every instinct in me wants to kiss her, to taste those full, soft lips. But against every pull of my body, I force myself to look at her one last time before turning away and stepping out into the cold night air.

The urge to look back is almost unbearable, but I don’t.

I can’t.

Because if I do, I’ll go back inside, lift her over my shoulder, and take her with me.

Soon, we’ll be back at St. Monarche´, and the space I promised her will come to an end.

For now, she’s safe here and untouchable.

Untouchably mine.

Let her think, let her breathe.

Because once term begins again, there’ll be no more distance.

Only us.

And before this year is over, she won’t just wear my ring, she’ll carry my name.

Chapter 52

Ophelia

We’re finally back at St. Monarché Institute.

I linger in my room, unpacking slowly, letting the quiet settle.

After Christmas, the New Year came too quickly, and the weeks that followed passed in a blur of recovery and restless thoughts.

I haven’t seen Arlo since Christmas Day. But that doesn’t mean he’s been absent. The flowers kept coming, lavish arrangements, delivered every few hours.

During the break, I also began therapy. My sessions with Dr. Evelyn, a trauma specialist, have been the one thing keeping my mind from collapsing in on itself.

She’s brilliant, warm, and perceptive. She insists I call her outside of sessions whenever the nightmares return, and I have, more than once.

Sometimes I still wake drenched in sweat, hands shaking, the memory of blood clinging to me like it’s real again.

Dr. Evelyn says guilt doesn’t always vanish, it simply softens with understanding. That I didn’t kill him out of cruelty, I survived him. That self-defence isn’t a crime, even if my mind refuses to see it that way.

She also told me that healing isn’t about forgetting, it’s about making peace with the truth that it happened and that I’m still here.

She’s also helped me start to untangle the hurt Arlo left behind, the betrayal, the disbelief, the cruelty that still lingers.

Lately, the words he said that night.

“We can come back from this.”

Don’t sound impossible anymore. For the first time, I almost believe them.

I shake off the thoughts of Arlo as a rush of happiness rises in my chest. I’m finally back, and I’ll finally get to see Bellamy. I’ve missed him more than I can put into words.

He wasn’t transferred to Italy during the break, the doctor hadn’t cleared me to ride after the surgery. One of the stable hands who lives on the island has been looking after him in my place.

I kneel beside my suitcase, sorting through what’s left to unpack, when a wave of dizziness hits.