Page 129 of Worth Every Moment
I roll onto my back to find Diana Marchetti staring down at me, eyes creased with concern, Erica’s shoes dangling in one hand.
Erica.
I scramble to sitting, twisting to face our cabin. The door is ajar. I’m about to push to my feet when Diana says, “She’s gone. I already checked.”
The world tilts. “Erica’s gone?”
“Yeah. Apparently Amy Moritz took her back to the mainland. They’re probably on a plane back to London already.”
She’s gone. My body hollows, the space filling with a hopeless panic that roars as loud as the ringing in my head.
I grapple with the sand, half dizzy as I run to the cabin and fling open the door, needing to verify for myself. I stumble from room to room, but it’s empty of her belongings. Her clothes, her shoes, her makeup; all gone.
How did I miss her leaving? I waited out here for hours. I must have fallen asleep.Or passed out?Amy and Erica must have walked right over me.
My legs weaken, and I clutch at the wall, wanting to sink to the floor.I’ve lost everything.
Given Diana is waiting outside, I can’t lie on the bed and weep, which is all I want to do. I step back outside, but as soon as I do, I start sprinting towards the jetty.
“Unless you’re planning on sprouting wings and taking off at three hundred miles an hour, you’re not going to catch her,” Diana yells. “She’s probably halfway across the Atlantic already.”
I stop, tilting my head back to the sky and raking both hands through my hair.This is a fucking nightmare.
Diana walks towards me, and when she reaches me, she sits in the sand, then taps the space next to her as though she expects me to sit too. Not knowing what else to do, and not wanting to face my family, I drop down next to her, Erica’s shoes between us.
“I found them on the beach,” she says, nodding at them. “She really is like Cinderella, running away without her shoes.”
I give the slightest rumbling hum in response.
“You look like shit,” Diana murmurs. “You should get someone to clean you up. You might need stitches for your eyebrow.”
Stitches? I run a finger over it. It’s crusty, gritty with sand, and still weeping blood.
Maybe I did pass out. Or maybe I drifted off and Erica knocked me out with another whack to the head with her shoe before she left. I wouldn’t put it past her.
Guilt churns. I missed the whole wedding. Dad will be furious, and Nico…fuck. Weddings are supposed to be a time of joy and celebration, and I spent my brother’s lying in the sand with a minor head injury.
No one came to find me except Diana. Did anyone give a shit? Judging by the low morning light that speckles the sea, it’s after dawn now, so no one did.
“You really love her, don’t you?” Diana’s voice interrupts my thoughts.
My heart twinges at the question.This is too raw.“Who?”
Diana sighs. “Erica, of course. You don’t have to pretend. I know you do.”
I catch her gaze and hold it. How much can this young woman take? She seems robust, sitting here next to me, looking completely unaffected by the fact she found me passed out in the sand outside another woman’s room the morning after our engagement was announced. She must be robust to be the daughter of Antonio Marchetti. Yet at the same time, there’s an innocence to her. Perhaps it’s because she’s only twenty, and it’s more youth than innocence. Maybe her bright eyes and flawless skin are confusing me, but to agree to an engagement to a man who’s in love with someone else, signing your life away to please your father… that’s a terrible burden. I’d pity her if I weren’t in the exact same situation.
“Arthur Knatchbull said you brought him a photo of Erica in a high street catalogue seven years ago, and that you told him you’d found the woman you were going to marry.”
I press my palms over my eyes. “I did say that.”
“If I fell as hard for someone as you fell for Erica, I’d never let them go. I’d fight for them.”
“You sound very idealistic.”
“And you sound like a condescending dickwad.” A laugh escapes me, but Diana plunges on. “How did he threaten you?”
An eerie awareness prickles my skin. “Huh?”
