Page 81 of Resisting Royal

CHAPTER 40

BIANCA

I watched numbly from the window as they pushed Royal into the police car, utterly oblivious to the commotion and sounds that went on around me. They were searching everywhere, scattering everything . . . searching for what? I wasn’t exactly sure. It didn’t matter, not anymore. Not when my heart was shattered in a million pieces after finally being so full.

He killed my father. My husband killed my father.

I choked on a sob that threatened to escape.

I fell for it. I knew my husband was a bad man, a monster, and I let myself fall for him. I allowed my heart to get caught up in the feelings his rich baritone and deep brown eyes provoked, even when I promised myself I wouldn’t let him win.

He won.

I watched as a pitcher fell from the top cabinet as they reached inside to check the shelves. Like it was falling in slow motion, time seemed to drag as it slowly descended to the ground, splintering on impact when it hit the ground, sending shards cascading in all directions. I felt it, like a symbol of my life; I felt the agony of pieces that could never be mended back together again. Pieces that try as they might would never be completely whole, would always be broken, would forever be damaged.

Hours. It took hours before the last car left the property, just before the first ray of the morning light crested the horizon. I never made a single phone call as Royal suggested, I didn’t have to. Troy already knew. He had to have known with the way his number flashed across my phone on repeat, filling up my mailbox and draining the life from my phone’s batteries.

When I was alone, I finally let myself fully feel the magnitude of the situation, and I cried, full-body sobs that came so fast and furious I had to fight to breathe. Never-ending streams of tears that ran down my cheeks and soaked the cotton of my shirt tore from my eyes until there was nothing left of my soul to pour out of me.

When Greta’s knock came on my bedroom door, I ignored it, not willing to look directly at her and show her my pain. She was guilty by association. Afflicted with the heartache of loving the same man I did, but not naïve enough to believe that loving a man like Royal came painlessly.

Royal killed my father.

I was suddenly gasping for air, fighting against the panic attack that wracked my whole body. I needed out, I needed to leave. I couldn’t stay in Royal’s room, sleeping in Royal’s bed and enjoying the luxury from his ill earned life knowing what he had done.

Without much thought into my plan, I pulled myself from the bedroom floor and started tossing items into empty bags, not caring if they matched. I filled two bags before I scooped up an armful of toiletries, dropped them in a tote, then proceeded to fill a box with everything Peter would need.

I packed my bags in my car before standing in the doorway of our shared bedroom one last time. I loved it here, with this man. At least I had. I bit my lip as I fought a sob then pulled off my ring. Placing the ring gently on the wooden nightstand, I closed the door and walked away, determined to leave this life behind.

It was just past eight in the morning when my car pulled out of Royal’s driveway, and even though I hadn’t been there long, I felt like I was leaving a piece of myself behind. I drove and drove, with no real destination in mind. How could I have a destination when I no longer had a family? Besides a few friends, who I wasn’t willing to bring this drama to, I had no one.

Hours of driving lead me to familiar surroundings. I didn’t mean to drive there, but subconsciously there had to be a reason, at least that’s what I told myself as I stared at the building in front of me. Exhaustion was setting in, my body ached, my head pounded, and the adrenaline that fueled me hours ago no longer pumped through my system.

I cracked the window of the car to let in the cool breeze for Peter before climbing out of the vehicle and shutting the door. Forcing myself to move forward, I walked up the short walkway to the bakery door, then pulled it open and stepped inside. Fresh air and the heavenly scent of sugar assaulted my senses, but I refused to let myself enjoy it.

Each step toward the display case felt heavy, but I had no other choice. I had no one. To my left, the man at the table noticed me, his back suddenly straight with recognition, but he said nothing as he pulled out his phone. I wasn’t delusional in thinking Royal would never find me. I knew the moment I parked my car, that word would get to him. But I needed a safe place away from him, even for a while.

The customer in front of me paid and moved past me. I stepped forward, bringing my eyes to the girl in front of me. I took a deep breath and let it out on a sob. “I didn’t know that loving him would hurt so bad.”

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