Page 128 of Our Radiant Embers

Oh, that was rich. I infused my voice with disdain. “And what makes you think it was me?”

Her eyes narrowed as she studied me, then her expression abruptly softened. “Yeah, I suspected that might be the case. But I wasn’t sure.”

She had some bloody nerve.

“And you felt like yelling at me was the best way to get clarity?” I asked.

“I didn’t yell,” she stated with the confidence of someone who rarely heard she was wrong. “A lady never raises her voice above the gentle whisper of an evening breeze.”

I was too heavy and sad to work up any amusement. Instead, I drank some more water that sloshed around my stomach. “Would that be all?”

“No.” She got up and leaned against the table, her voice quiet now. “Adam told me it’s over, but that’s all he told me. It’s not like him to hold back. Now that I know it wasn’t your call, my best guess is that he did something noble and stupid.”

“If breaking up with me is both those things, then yes. I guess he did.” The words tasted ashen in my mouth. “Not that we ever labelled it, so really, can’t lose what you never had.”

Cassandra weighed me for a silent second. Then she exhaled, a sad tilt to her mouth. “He loves you. You know that, right?”

Did he?

I angled my face away. “He’s got a funny way of showing it.”

“It’s just…” A delicate pause. “Complex. See, my family has a backup plan. Adam’s family? He is their Plan A, B, and C.”

My snort got stuck halfway up my throat, and fucking hell, I didn’t want to be so…So…God, so something. I didn’t even know anymore. “Well, that’s encouraging.”

”Liam.” For the first time, she didn’t sound at all like the confident young woman who’d been raised to believe that the world was her oyster. “Please be patient with him? He’s…He thought he had a plan, you know? Or something very much like it, anyway. It didn’t include meeting you.”

Well, that made two of us. I shook my head. “So I’ve, what—queered his pitch?”

“Excellent choice of idioms,” she told me with a tiny quirk to her lips before her expression sobered. “And no, you didn’t ruin his plans. But you might become the reason he’s finally true to himself.”

If only.

I set down my glass and studied Cassandra. “In the unlikely event you’re right—what about you?”

Her smile was small but genuine. “I’m ready when he is.”

“That might be never,” I said.

“Perhaps.” She pursed her mouth, eyes thoughtful as she took me in. “But somehow, I just don’t think so.”

Since I was fresh out of hope, I chose to stay quiet.

* * *

A week went by.

I slept too little. I ate enough to keep my family off my back. I thought about hitting a club, but even the thought of kissing someone else turned my stomach.

I visited the construction sites and fell into a rhythm with Gale, who treated me with the gentle care typically afforded to the wounded. Several times, he opened his mouth as if to say something, then didn’t. When he thought I wouldn’t notice, he watched me with wide, sad eyes.

There were minutes when I didn’t think about Adam, but they were few and far between.

* * *

Something was wrong with me.

It started as soon as I set foot on the construction site in Southwark, sickness welling up in my bones, a sudden headache pressing against the backs of my lids. I pushed through it—probably just lack of sleep demanding its eventual tribute.

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