Page 27 of One Weekend in London

“I thought I knew what heartbreak was, but that... what they did shattered me. Mostly because I didn’t listen to Mamaw. I let someone—two someones—make me feel less than my worth.”

Trembling, she turns in my arms, facing me. Her small hands grasp the front of my shirt, holding on for dear life. “There’s something you should know.”

She hesitates, insecurity dancing over her face.

“It’s about Maxwell...”

CHAPTER 11

Rhys

My head is on the verge of exploding.

I grit my back teeth, a surge of silent rage coursing through my veins. Hearing her bastard ex’s name fall from her perfect lips is like a poison-tipped dagger to the throat.

He isn’t worthy of her past, much less her present.

“Truth be told, he never truly loved me. At least not in the way a man should love the woman he’s close to spending the rest of his life with.” Each word Sadie speaks only heightens my disbelief and fury. “Just as I never fully loved him the way a woman should her future husband. But none of that made his betrayal hurt any less.”

It’s rotten, I realise, but her confession pleases the possessive monster living inside me. Immensely. To know my sweet Sadie never loved the plonker, that her broken heart was never his to hold, is music to my ears.

She was always meant to be mine.

Even long before we met.

“We’d just been together so long that when he proposed, being high school sweethearts and all, I stupidly thought saying yes was the right decision. I cared about him, don’t get me wrong, I just wasn’t in love with him, if that makes sense. I t-think…”

She hesitates, blowing out a small breath.

“I think we were just used to being with one another. Looking back, I’m sure his family pressured him into proposing.” Her small jaw clenches. “Well, not Cornelia. That witch never liked me. In her eyes, I wasn’t good enough for her precious grandson.”

It’s more information I file away for later.

The primal urge to hunt down the wanker and make him pay for every ounce of pain he’s caused Sadie, directly and indirectly, is nearly overwhelming. Wholly blinding. But I push it down, forcing its way into the blackness and focus on the woman in my arms.

She needs comfort, not my anger.

“You deserve so much more than being with someone out of habit and obligation, love. You deserve nothing less than to be cherished, adored, and loved with every fibre of someone’s being.”

I mean every word.

With my entire soul.

Her eyes still shimmer with tears, the wobble of her chin only adding to her pained expression, making the figurative knife in my side twist, cutting bone and flesh.

“I know that now.” Her reply appeases the pain streaking through my chest. But only marginally. “It’s just hard to believe sometimes, you know?”

I brush my thumb across her cheekbone. “Believe it. Because you are worthy of all that and more. And if I have to be the one to show you that, to prove it to you, I’m ready.”

“Thank you.” She leans into my touch, a soft smile playing on her lips. “For being here, for listening, for... well, everything.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

We stand like this for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, everything outside of the capsule we share falling away. But then, slowly, I guide Sadie to the bench, where the chilled champagne and fruit await.

As we sit, her now bright eyes widen, taking in the breathtaking view of London sprawled out before us. The River Thames winds through the city, the iconic Tower Bridge, and the gleaming skyscrapers of the financial district visible in the distance. The sun casts a golden glow over the city, the normal dreariness nowhere to be found, making it look like something out of a fairy tale.

I hope she finds it all magical.

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