Page 148 of Unexpected Heroine

Another three seconds.

Two more.

Fuck it.

As soon as one of my palms connects with her upper back, she spins and slams into my chest, wrapping herself around me.

Surprised she’d allow me to touch her, let alone hold her, I freeze for a split second.

Breath hitching and aching to soothe us both, I fold myself around her and close my eyes.

And I hold her while she cries.

All because of me.

“Violet, I’m so fucking sorry.” I bury my face in her hair and keep apologizing. “So sorry, baby. So sorry.”

Eventually, her sobs slow.

Her chest shakes with a few shuddery breaths before she releases me from the bear hug. When she pulls away, my soul foolishly attempts to cling to her as if it could keep her with me.

She doesn’t meet my eyes again. Wordlessly, she grabs the remaining belongings that didn’t fit in her duffel, tossing them in mine.

Once she’s zipped them closed, I grab both bags to carry them for her.

Steeling myself for the sight of her walking out of the door, I fill my lungs with a surge of air, hoping it’ll give me the strength to let her go. It dawns on me that I’m breathing in her sweetness for the last time. Sure, her scent will linger in my room for a while. In my bedsheets and on my pillow.

Eventually, it’ll dissipate. Gradually. Each minute, each hour, each day. It’ll lessen. Slowly but surely.

Until all I have are my memories of her.

And even those I don’t deserve.

Chapter 26

Oven mitts and bullshit detectors

LETTIE

Stella took the news about as well as I expected, which is to say she had a twenty-four-karat gold shit fit. I did learn a few new colorful swears, though. So the day hasn’t been a total loss.

Freya, on the other hand, has been silent. Eerily so.

She’s been cheering James on for a long time now, convinced how much he’s loved me since the beginning. Perhaps that’s why it’s making her so introspective. I don’t know. The lie about his name didn’t bother her much. Perhaps it’s because she assumes most people from Bask use an alias.

However, the truth about my father left her speechless.

As for me, I don’t know how I am. Ask again tomorrow.

It’s all still sinking in.

Being at my apartment feels strange. Like I don’t belong here anymore. It might be my bed, my sheets, and my bathroom.

But it’s also . . . not.

And I don’t know why that is.

Everything feels wrong. Even the air isn’t right. Don’t ask me to explain. I can’t.

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