Page 2 of Savage Love

I want to believe that he’s not going to get over it. That he never will. But I don’t know what I believe any longer.

A soft knock at my door startles me out of my miserable train of thought. I wipe at my face, suddenly alarmed at the thought of Isabella seeing me like this—or whoever is on the other side of the door. No one other than Levin and I know what happened between us—and I planned on keeping it that way.

“Yes?” I call out, trying to keep my watery voice from shaking, but I don’t do a very good job.

“Elena?” It’s Isabella, as I expected. “Are you alright? Can I come in?”

“Um—sure.” If I tell her no, she’ll be even more suspicious that something is really wrong. I wipe harder at my eyes and face, getting to my feet and folding the letter up in my hand, looking for somewhere to put it.

She opens the door before I can.

“Elena?” She stands in the doorway, her pretty face creased with concern. I’ve always thought my sister was the more beautiful of the two of us. She has sharper features, an ocean of thick dark hair, and the most perfect figure I think anyone could ever be blessed with. I’m softer in some places than I’d like to be, but Isabella is a vision. She’s also much more fiery than I am—all it takes is one look at her narrow dark eyes to see that she takes absolutely no one’s shit.

I used to not be that way. But some things have changed.

“What’s wrong?” She steps into the room, closing the door behind her. Her gaze sweeps over my face, and I see instantly that I haven’t done a good enough job of hiding that I’ve been crying. I’m not surprised—my facefeelspuffy and swollen. Isabella has always been quick to pick up on things like that anyway, especially when it comes to me. “Is it—did something happen?”

Her gaze flicks to the letter in my hand. “What’s that?”

“Nothing.” I swallow hard, walking quickly to the nightstand and depositing it there. “It’s no big deal.”

“You’ve never lied to me, Elena. I wish you wouldn’t start now.” She purses her lips. “You knowpapacalled me. He told me to make sure I took care of you. That was weeks ago—when you were supposed to be coming straight here from Mexico. We’ve had no idea where you were. I’ve been so worried. If it wasn’t for Niall keeping me calm—”

“If I could have gotten in touch with you, I would have.” I look at her apologetically. “There wasn’t any way–”

“I know that. I’ve been through something similar, remember?” Isabella lets out a small, sharp breath. “But if something happened to you in Rio, something that’s bothering you–”

I haven’t gotten to talk to my sister very much since she left. But I can’t imagine she likes thinking about what happened to her—about being kidnapped by Diego in a very similar fashion, nearly forced to marry him, and sent to the bride-tamer to be broken to Diego’s will. If it weren’t for Niall, she might be back home still, trapped in a horrific marriage to the man responsible for so much of our pain. I’d be back there, too, probably on the verge of my own arranged marriage. I would never have met Levin. And Isabella—

She wouldn’t be here, in this cozy house, with her devoted husband and my little niece.

I know Isabella well enough to know that she’s the kind of person who would prefer to look forward instead of backward. But I also know she would understand at least part of what I’ve gone through.

I just don’t think she’ll understand about Levin.

“I’m fine.” I take a deep breath, trying to force a smile onto my face, but I can see she’s not buying it.

“Who is the letter from?” Isabella narrows her eyes at me. “I’m not trying to parent you, Elena, but when I come in your room and find you sobbing–”

“I’m not sobbing–”

“You were.” She steps past me, reaching for the letter. I try to block her, but she’s too quick. I should have known she’d go for it—Isabella has always been a bit of a bossy older sister. She’s always believed she knows best—and a lot of the time, that’s true. But now that our parents have told her to look out for me, I have no doubt that she’s going to take that far too much to heart.

She opens the letter before I can snatch it away from her. I see her face go from concerned to angry in an instant, and she looks up at me, a furious expression in her sharp dark eyes.

“What the hell, Elena?” Her fist crumples around the letter, and it’s all I can do not to snatch it away from her. If I do, it’ll tear, and it’s all I have left of him.

Just thinking that makes me feel so pathetic I can’t stand it.

“What did he do?” Isabella’s lips are pressed together, turning white at the edges, and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen my sister so angry. She’s not angry at me, I don’t think, but if Levin were here, she’d be flying at him. It’s him that I think she’s pissed at.

“Hedidn’t do anything–”

“It sure sounds like he did!” Isabella tosses the letter onto the bed, crossing her arms over her chest. “It sounds like he took advantage of you.”

“He didn’t!” I shake my head, trying to think of how to make her understand. All of my emotions feel frayed, my mind foggy. “I–I initiated most of it. He tried to tell me no, but I insisted–”

Isabella’s mouth twists. “He’s nearly forty,” she spits out. “He should have had more goddamned self-control.”

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