Page 34 of Slow Burn (The Boston Beauties)

He unlocked his door and I walked into an open-concept living room and dining room, with a small kitchen off to the side.

There was a large big-screen TV and leather sectional in the living room, a glass coffee table and Turkish-style rug.

I looked around, taking it all in. ‘I paid a designer…’ he told me, rolling my suitcases into a room off the dining room, turning on the light. ‘This is your room. I had the cleaning lady change all the bedding this week, not that anyone has slept here, but they are clean and fresh, same with the towels in your bathroom.

I placed my backpack on the queen-sized bed with wooden headboard and a light purple duvet.

I took off my veil and headscarf in one swift move, undoing my ponytail that was keeping my shoulder-length hair out of my face and ran my fingers through it, sighing at how good it felt.

I had on a long-sleeve black shirt and a pair of yoga pants under the long black dress. I took the dress off and tossed it on the bed, kicking my sneakers off also. It felt so good to be out of the dress. All I wanted to do now was take a shower, brush my teeth and sleep for the next four days.

I looked at Breton, who stood a few feet from me with his mouth hung open and a surprised look on his face.

‘Jessa,’ he whispered. ‘Like…’

I smiled and looked at myself. ‘What did you expect? I lived at a weight-loss resort for months.’

‘Not that…’ He looked me over, again and again. Not in a sexual way, but just trying to make sure it was real.

‘Seventy pounds and five dress sizes.’ I turned around.

‘Shit, that’s a lot of work.’

‘Damn right it is, and let me tell you, I feel so much better, physically and mentally.’

He turned and left the room. ‘Come, I’ll show you around. I’ll be gone before you’re up tomorrow.’ He had already told me he left for work early and stayed late most nights.

After the tour, he led me back to my room and gave me a big hug. ‘I’m so happy to have you back, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you,’ he told me, looking at me.

‘Me too Brett,’ I hugged him back. ‘Me too.’

Menu planning, I had learned, was a big part of not only weight loss, but maintenance. I set a plan for the week that Breton was gone and stuck to it.

It didn’t take long for my new life in London to settle into a routine. Each day consisted of the gym and preparing healthy meals. Some days I’d run errands, others I’d work on my business case, or simply just lounge around, reading, streaming, or stalking Miley’s blog. Recently I’d been trying my hand at baking. Most of my experiments to try and make it healthy were a fail, but once in a while, it turned out edible, less often than that it was actually good.

One rainy day, after returning from the gym, showering and eating, I had decided to stay in for the rest of the day. I was browsing Facebook on Breton’s account that he let me use to keep up to date on the social musings of my friends back home. I hadn’t logged on to my own account since the morning I boarded the yacht.

It was through Facebook that I discovered Drew was in a relationship with Lisa, one of the bartenders from the beach bar, and one of Breton’s old friends from school. I had seen her post a few pictures over the past few months with him in them, but I figured they were just friends and they were hanging out.

I stared at the updated relationship status; Lisa Richards changed her relationship status from single to in a relationship with Drew Cameron. I scrolled back through the photos, they were all adding up now. I failed to see it when she had first posted the pictures. At the time I was just delighted to be able to see recent photos of him. His hair was grown out, and he had a beard, in some photos it was better kept than in others. He looked the same, but different all at the same time. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, which held pain—pain I had caused.

I picked up the phone and dialed Breton's number. It went to voicemail, but I wasn’t taking his silence. He had to have known, which meant he intentionally kept it from me. I sent him a text message.

JESSA:I’m going to call you again right now, you better answer.

He answered on the first ring. ‘I’m at work,’ he snapped, sounding annoyed.

‘Ask me if I care…’ I bit back

‘What’s the matter?’ he asked me in a calm low voice.

‘How long have you known?’ I asked him, and he was silent on the other end of the line, confirming what I had thought.

‘It’s new,’ he let out.

‘But you’ve known, and you didn’t tell me,’ I accused him, and I felt the tears spill over my eyes.

‘They started seeing each other a few months ago,’ Breton started. ‘I didn’t think much of it at the time…’

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