Page 159 of I Was Always Yours (RCA: Royal Crown Academy)

When I’m done, my hands are shaking so badly that I have a hard time holding the phone.

Confusion wars with disbelief as I struggle to accept what I just read. From what I can tell, Phoenix is involved in some type of scheme to defraud his father, and somehow it culminates before our wedding.

My mind flashes back to his father’s office when our parents had told us about the arranged marriage.

His father had threatened to cut him off if he didn’t agree to the engagement. It’s only after that ultimatum had been made that Phoenix had assented, and he’d still been furious.

I could understand why, in the beginning. He’d hated me back then. But recently…I thought he was warming to the idea, I thought we were building towards that. But if this email is right, then it was all smoke and mirrors.

A pretense he went along with in order to line his pockets before he tossed me away.

I don’t know why you’re surprised, that’s always the way he’s treated you, I think to myself.

Emotions jam my throat and I can’t breathe. There’s anguish, and pain, and grief like I haven’t experienced since losing Astor because this feels like another death. Those emotions are so powerful they’re almost insurmountable. They submerge me until I feel like I’m drowning in the confines of my own body.

But there’s also anger. Anger with him, but also anger with myself. When people show you who they are, believe them. That’s the saying and for good reason, so why can’t I listen? When he keeps showing me who he is, why can’t I just believe him? Why do I keep searching for a redeemable version of him that loves me back?

Clearly, it doesn’t exist. It never has and it never will.

Even with the evidence of his betrayal between my hands, I still don’t want to believe it. I’m still searching for any excuse that can explain this away.

I bring a fist to my mouth to smother the sob that struggles to break free. Pain tries to express itself in the form of screams and tears of heartbreak. In that moment, holding myself back from falling head and heart first into that sorrow is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Agonized whimpers escape from my lips but are mercifully muffled by the shower.

The sound of the water turning off carries through into the bedroom and jolts me into action. I don’t want to have this argument now, not when I don’t have all the information and I feel physically and emotionally vulnerable.

I take a screenshot of the email and text it to myself before deleting the message and photo off his phone so there’s no trace of it, then throw the phone back on the mattress.

I hear him move around the bathroom as I dry the tears that pooled in the corner of my eyes and try to gather myself. If he suspects something is wrong, he’ll stay and I need him to leave.

For the first time since I met him, he’s not going to have the upper hand on me. I’m not going to let him hurt me one final time with this.

He comes fully dressed out of the bathroom, the scent of amber and musk wafting in after him into the bedroom. He gives me a satisfied smirk and his usual intense look when he catches me staring at him, and my confidence rattles.

How can he look at me like that when he’s lying about everything? How can he when he’s planning on doing the one thing I’d been most worried about when we started hooking up – that he was doing this, making me fall harder in love with him and taking all my firsts,allof them, just so he could break my heart. I feel it splinter looking at his handsome, savage face.

“Alright, the car’s downstairs, I have to head out.” He says, leaning over and zipping his bag. He straightens and walks over to where I’m sitting up in bed.

I work hard to keep my face as impassive as I can, but he sees through it. He always has.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, sitting next to me.

“Nothing, don’t worry.” I say, waving him away with a hand. “My stomach’s feeling a little weird, I might be coming down with something.”

He frowns and places a hand on my forehead.

“You don’t feel warm or anything. Get some rest and hopefully it’ll pass.”

“I will. Have a safe flight.” I tell him, looking away. I’m afraid if I look into his eyes for too long, he’ll see the depth of my despair and hurt.

He hesitates. “I can stay.”

Oh, God. Why is he even offering that? Emotion bubbles in my throat and threatens to slip out. If he doesn’t leave soon, I’m going to completely fall apart in front of him.

“No, go. I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.” I peck him on the lips and move to lay back down but he reaches out and his fingers close around my wrist.

I stare at where he holds me, the last time he’ll ever touch me, and run my gaze slowly up his arm and to his face. I expect to see suspicion on his face, but he’s smirking at me.

“That’s not how you say bye,” he says, and before I can stop him, he cups the back of my neck and brings his mouth down on mine in a warm, soft kiss.

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