Page 57 of Her Cruel Bodyguard

“Eva,” she shoves herself in and hugs me as best she can. “Thank you so much,” she sniffles, then pulls back to take my face in her hands. “God bless you,” she blinks, and her voice cracks. “Thank you,” she swallows, then takes her hand back.

“You are welcome,” I squeeze out a smile and nod. “He is a lovely, smart boy.”

She nods and steps back as Fabio gets into the car and starts it.

“Goodnight, Mindy,” I wind up as she mouths her goodnight.

I need my bed.

I need my father.

I need my brother.

I need my mother.

I swallow, inhale sharply, and feel the sting of it in my stomach. I clench my teeth to hold in my tears and shake my head to keep myself together.

We will be home soon. I won’t have everything I need, but I will have my bed. Even though it has been soiled with memories of Fabio taking me for the first time.

“We are not going home?” I ask as Fabio takes a different turn.

“Not yet,” he keeps driving, staring at the road.

“Take me home, please,” I beg, too tired to spend another brain-straining minute around him.

He keeps driving, and then he takes another turn, and not long after, he takes another. He then stops in front of what appears like a pier, and I see the glint of the ocean ahead with three boats at the dock and a white yacht.

The place looks like it’s still in use, but it also appears to be void of any living being except us. It is beautiful in its way.

If I were in a better mood, I would appreciate it and want to capture it or him in it. I would ask him to stand on the pier and highlight the bluish glow from the sky lamps. They mimic the color of the ocean and, somehow, that of the moon sitting on it.

A few benches with flowers around them are scattered about, and I think in the daytime, people will sit to enjoy the view or share it with someone they love.

“What are we doing here?” It is unfair that we are here. This beautiful place doesn’t deserve our broken love story.

“I came here on the night of your eighteenth birthday,” Fabio turns off the car, sighing. “And I think I want to do this here.”

“Fabio, please,” I have no idea what he wants to do, and I am not in the mood for another shattering of my already-splintered heart.

“It was the first place I admitted to myself that I loved you, Eva. The first and last time. So far,” he tilts to face me, the air in my lungs sucked out by his words.

I am blinking, my brain is scrambling, and my heart is jamming against my chest as I try for the life of me to make sense of what he is saying.

“I love you, Eva,” he drags a hand through his hair and grips the strands. “I fucking love you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

FABIO

Ifeel it.

The rock lodged in my chest, melting away as soon as the words left my mouth.

Earlier, I made a call to get this place ready. Nowhere else had felt like the perfect place to do this.

“What are you saying, Fabio?” Her voice is shaky, and I detest the fact that I am the reason why. How can it be unbelievable that I love her?

I have pushed her away, no doubt, but I have never said I do not feel the same way, if not more.

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