Page 35 of The Surrender

Is he going to continue with the proverbial slaps? “I think we’re done.”

“We are so far from done.” He looks at the ceiling, exasperated, and I freeze, not liking his persona. “We were engaged.”

My jaw goes lax, my eyes like saucers.Engaged?

“Briefly,” he adds, as if that takes the sting out of this new bombshell. “Before I ended things.” He blows his cheeks out, starting to pace up and down, fidgety. “I called it off, she met Rob, and that was that.”

“That was that?” I ask in disbelief. “You still fuck her!”

“Not since I met you!”

“Oh, how admirable of you.” Emotion is sneaking up on me, my voice becoming wobbly, my throat tight. What the hell have I got myself into? And how many times will I ask myself that stupid fucking question before I, in Jude’s words, save myself?

I pull the hoodie on to cover the gaping back of my dress and collect my things.

“You’re leaving,” he says on a sigh. “Of course you are.”

I turn and face him, resolute. “I’m taking your advice and saving myself.” I walk out, knowing he’s following me but keeping his distance. He was engaged to be married? Somehow, stupidly, that hurts way more than knowing he fucked her.

Hemusthave loved her. The sting is real. I’ve never loved anyone like I love Jude, and I currently hate that.Hate it.

I sniff and roughly wipe at my face, and when I reach the lobby, Katherine is in the doorway to the bar, a gin glass in her hand. A smug smile on her face. And here I am, a mess.

I don’t have the energy for her, and what would be the point anyway? She keeps firing her bullets, and they keep fucking hitting.

“Amelia,” Jude calls after me, surprisingly calmly.

I step outside and feel untold relief when I see Humphrey beside one of the cars. “Can you take me back to London, Humphrey?” I ask, seeing him look past me. I peek over my shoulder and find Jude outside the doors. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, studying me, his jaw twitching with how tense it is.

He eventually tears his eyes away from me. “Take her,” he says.

And then he turns and walks back into Arlington Hall.

And I feel like all my limbs have been cut off.

Chapter 9

I felt like I’d done a whole day before I even got to the office this morning. I went to the gym, picked up the cake stand, shot across town on the Tube to drop it off, shot back to sign the papers on my new rental, ready to collect the keys on Friday, and miraculously got into the office five minutes early. The weight that left my shoulders when I hit send on the various reinvestment recommendations was indescribable.

So is the infinite sense of stupidity. And hurt. His fucking fiancée? They were going to get married. That sounds pretty fucking serious. And the fact they were still fucking? What the hell does that even mean? They’re not over each other? Jude can’t let go? He regrets ending it? He’s jealous she’s married to someone else?

I growl under my breath and scratch my palm, the damn thing itching and driving me nuts. When my phone dings, I cautiously peek at the screen.

You’re avoiding me

I shrink over my desk. Yes, I’m avoiding her. Because now I have to tell them that I’m not, in fact, back with Jude. So, cowardly, I ignore Abbie’s message and call my mum instead.

“I’m still on a high!” she sings. “Oh, what a wonderful day it was. I want to do it all over again.”

I smile with effort as I flick through my emails, earmarking them in order of priority. “It was.”

“We haven’t seen you for a few days.”

“I’ve been a bit busy. I’ll call round after work, okay? I have a dinner meeting at seven thirty, so don’t cook for me.”

“Okay, darling. Have you signed the paperwork for your new apartment yet?”

“This morning. I get the keys Friday.”