Page 30 of Twisted Promise

“I, too,” the third member of their trio chimed in, raising his hand. “It’s funny how people get so sensitive about being called out. I guess the truth does hurt, aye?”

“I watched yours,” Meryl’s husband said with a lovesick smile on his face.

Anya thought he had considerable emotional capability, but Meryl lived with him, so her opinion on it was more accurate.

“I did, too,” Meryl hissed, the fork clanking on her front teeth. “You havenamesfor my toes?”

Anya tuned out his explanation, and she was honestly not in the mood to lose more appetite. She wasn’t hungry due to the excitement of finishing her confessional and feeling liberated again.

A soft graze on her hand below the table caught her heart in her throat as Alessio’s finger lightly curled around one of hers. They were in this foggy phase, a difficult halfway of absolute confusion as to what they were.

Were they distant friends? Close strangers? Fleeting glances? Steady hands? Lingering memories?

But not regrets. Anya would never regret Alessio.

“Be real with me here,” Clara uttered with an inconspicuous slur peppering into her voice. “Just between the two of us. We’re friends, right? Yes, we are. So, you can tell me, and I’ll keep your secret.”

Anya’s finger broke off from Alessio’s and turned her attention back to the woman who said nothing useful.

They’d only spoken a handful of times, and every conversation had been surface-level. Those three kept to themselves and were always out on dates. She was kind of interested in what part of First Love, Dearly Beloved fit into their relationship.

The director hadn’t vetted anyone’s romantic history.

Alessio certainly wasn’t volunteering information about his past relationships.

Did anyone even meet the show’s requirements?

The more time she spent here, the more she doubted it. The show’s goal was unclear as well. It was like the director wanted everything and nothing at the same time.

“She meant if you two are dating,” Cosmo clarified, wiping his lips with a napkin. “Or if you were in the past.”

“I want to say yes,” the other partner drawled, deliberately slow. “But I don’t want to be wrong. Then again, I’m never wrong. Come on, you two aren’t even hiding it. At least play pretend, yeah?”

A message notification saved her from the unwanted interrogation. She quickly excused herself from the table and took another glance at Meryl’s husband, whose eyes were shooting hearts at Meryl’s unreceptive ones.

Behind her, Alessio’s intense gaze burned into her back. She took deep breaths, but before she could collect herself, she heard him mutter a disturbingly courteous, “Excuse me.”

He caught up to her with long strides and guided them out of view from the dining area. The strength in his fingers branded his heartbeats on her skin and turned the touch into soothing restraints.

Under the gaze of a live camera streaming to millions, he leaned down and whispered in her ear like the taste of a devil’s tongue grazing her bravery.

“I’ll be watching,” he murmured, his voice a low hiss that sent shivers down her spine. “I hope I’ll finally know what made you leave.”

A threat was wedged deceitfully in his voice, and it made her question why it came so naturally to him.

Small bells of fear trickled to her ear, building a fortress to ward off his voice, and threw blockades around her heart. It was sudden yet primal, the way her body protected itself despite her brain feeling nothing.

“We’ll move on afterward,” he said, resolute and commanding, his tone embracing serenity.

Then he let her go, leaving her alone in the hall with muddled thoughts.

A staff member she didn’t recognize appeared moments later, dutifully guiding her to the confessional room. Wordlessly, Anya followed, her mind spinning like pudding left to curdle in the sun.

She settled onto the same loveseat as before, her thoughts a chaotic jumble as the interviewer and commenters eagerly waited for her to deliver the final chapter of her story—theDearly Belovedending.

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TWENTY

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