‘What does Anthony say about this? He might have more experience with this type of thing than me…’
I stare pointedly at him, watching as his pupils practically double in size. ‘You. Are. Fucking. Joking.’
I shrug and sigh, waiting for him to digest this new piece of information.
‘How long?’
‘How long have I been obsessed with her?’ I glance at the chunky silver timepiece on my wrist. ‘Exactly three years, nine weeks and five days.’
‘Fuck,’ he splutters. Horror etches into the lines around his mouth. ‘Have you been having an affair?’ His tone is incredulous.
‘One kiss. That was all.’
Clarity creeps across his face. ‘Hozier.’
‘Yep.’
‘This is bad. Really fucking bad, bro.’ He takes a huge mouthful of whiskey and signals to the barman for two more.
‘I know.’ I sigh.
‘He’s your best friend—even if he is a total douche,’ Sean reminds me. ‘They exchanged vows. Their families are bound so tightly in business, I doubt there’s a solicitor in this world that could legally separate them—and that’s even supposing she wants to, and I’m damn sure he won’t let her go that easily—even if he is putting his dick about like a dog.’
‘Believe me, I’ve thought about this. I didn't choose to have feelings for her. It just happened. After the Hozier concert… I’ve stayed away. Seeing her is so hard. Then again, not seeing her isn’t exactly a fucking picnic either.’
‘You know they’ll both be at the Beckett annual ball next week?’ He rolls his lips together thoughtfully. ‘How are you going to pretend everything is normal when it’s so fucked up, it’s not even funny?’
‘Same way I always do.’ I raise my glass, clink it against his, and force my widest smile until my cheeks feel like they might crack.
‘This isn’t good. If you and her…’ He motions with his hands. ‘If she… If Anthony so much as gets a whiff of this, he’ll do everything in his power to ruin you—to ruin all of us Becketts. You know he has a real vicious streak.’
‘It won’t come to that.’ The words don’t come out quite as vehemently as I hoped. ‘You will keep this to yourself, right?’
‘Course I fucking will. I don’t have a death wish.’
‘Neither do I.’ Though, I would burn the world down for her if she asked me to. Or at least, hand her the match and stand by her side if she preferred to do it herself.
It won’t come to that.
It can’t.
But I can’t go on like this either.
I just don’t know how to move on.
And truthfully, I don’t want to.
Chapter Thirteen
REBEKKA
The Beckett annual Christmas ball is the highlight of the season—for anyone that isn’t obsessed with their youngest son—or perhaps even those who are.
Not for me though.
It’s another test of my endurance.
Another chance to see all that I long for.