Page 66 of Consequence of One Reckless Night

However, while leaving, Carlos reminded him what a special woman Raquel was and warned him to never let her go.

All his life, he’d wanted to be a true Monteiro yet, when Carlos embraced him and accepted him as one, he didn’t feel jubilant. Instead, anger and shock had coursed through him.

Still reeling from Alisha’s betrayal, Raquel’s betrayal had slammed into him with the force of a tsunami. He didn’t understand why she’d spilled his secrets to Carlos. The things they had spoken in the privacy of their home, revealed to a man who could destroy him emotionally. Only Carlos hadn’t—he’d repented and accepted him as his grandson.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to forgive Raquel. In a haze of anger, he’d driven home, only to have her stand up to him—justifying her actions. She remained unrepentant—never once apologized for exposing him to Carlos. Instead, she begged him to understand her—her motives.

As he drove around listlessly, his ire fizzled out, leaving behind a pounding headache. The haze inside his head began to clear and his thoughts became comprehensible again.

Why had he lashed out at Raquel while he had quietly taken in Alisha’s betrayal and Carlos’s change of heart?

Because she mattered more than Alisha and Carlos.

The reality slammed into him—stunning him. Her betrayal hurt more because he had never expected her to hurt him.

And because he—he loved her!

The truth sank into him, spreading through his veins to every part of his body—every cell in him exalting. He loved Raquel—and that’s why her actions had hurt him.

And what had he done? He had hurt her back. Remorse filled him. How could he hurt the one person who truly loved him? Hadn’t he always looked at his mother, first and then his father’s family, for love? And when love came his way, he turned his back on it!

Stepping on the accelerator, he sped back home.

“Please don’t leave me,” he muttered, driving through the drizzle, hoping Raquel was at home. She’d offered her heart—her love to him and in his anger, he had rejected them both.

He regretted it. Deeply. He would ask for her forgiveness and beg for another chance. But fear skittled through him even as he made plans to persuade Raquel into giving him another chance.

What if Raquel wasn’t home? The question filled him with trepidation.

“Please,” he prayed to a God he had long forgotten. “Don’t let her leave me. I need her. Please. I will make it up to her. Please...”

But when he reached his seaside home, he found the house doused in darkness and fear shot through him. She was gone! A cry of desperation tore out of him as he ran to the front door and thrust it open.

“Raquel!”

****

Raquel sat up as Alexandre’svoice bellowed in the hallway yet again, the second time that night. She was a wretched mess with a tear-stained face and swollen eyes. Sniffing, she switched on the bedside lamp, the sudden flash of light stinging her eyes.

After Alexandre had stormed out of the house, she had remained rooted in her place, too shocked to move. His parting words played on a loop in her head as she struggled to assimilate that her husband, her lover, the man she had offered her heart to, had cruelly rejected her love.

Was she destined to be unloved all her life?

Her mother’s rejection of her had forced her to close herself off from people, making her believe that she would never inspire anyone to love her. Even with Alexandre, she hadn’t expected to fall in love—yet somehow, she had. His kindness, undivided attention—all of it was a farce. She thought his affection was an indication of his mellowing feelings—only it hadn’t been. She was just a woman he was unfortunately trapped with.

If this is love, then I don’t want your love.

She closed her eyes as fresh tears sprang anew. Hadn’t she bared her heart to him? Hadn’t she fought for his right to be a Monteiro? Hadn’t she stood up to his grandfather and told him that he was a fool for not loving the wonderful man she had married?

And what had he done? Thought her intervention was a betrayal and rejected her. Stung by his rejection, her first instinct was to leave him. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it, knowing what it felt to be unwanted and unloved.

She couldn’t falter at the first hint of trouble in their marriage! Her love was true, and she wouldn’t abandon Alexandre, not when she knew how much he desired to be loved. He was her first love—her only love, and she had to make him see that what she’d done was out of love for him.

Alexandre tarried at the door, peering at her in the dim light as though unsure if he should step into the room. “I feared...” he said, taking in large gulps of air, making her wonder why he was panting.

“Feared what?” She watched something akin to fear chase across his face.

“That you’d leave me.”

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