Page 122 of Wild Tangled Hearts

Aweek has passed since I walked into Sebastian’s apartment and saw him with that woman. It’s a cruel twist of fate that I had only gone there to get my forgotten phone, but instead, found my heart shattered into pieces.

I hate him.At least I try to. But there’s a nagging voice in my head wondering if there could be some logical explanation.

“Don’t be an idiot,” I mumble. He’s just like the rest of the men I’ve dated.A liar and a cheat.

I’ve avoided him at all costs, going as far as getting a new phone and a new number to ensure there is no chance of contact. There is no forgiveness for what I saw that night. I have to forget him and move on.

Except it seems like an impossible task. Even now, I can’t stop loving him.

Groaning at how pathetic I feel, I grab my purse and get ready for work. Locking the door behind me, I make my way to my car. The familiar pattern of teaching and indulging in an after-school coffee at The Artful Bean should serve as a momentary anchor, helping me regain a sense of stability.

My stomach tightens in unease when I notice Sebastian’s Mercedes parked nearby, and as he steps out of the car, his intense gaze fixes on me as he approaches.

“I have no desire to hear anything you have to say,” I assert, striving to maintain a composed tone despite the inner turmoil.

“Bella, please,” Sebastian pleads, his voice strained with a rough cough. I steal a glance at him and find myself taken aback by his disheveled state. His pallid complexion, unruly hair, and the disarray of his shirt, with buttons undone and the collar askew, all catch me by surprise.

I can sense his vulnerability, and it tugs at my heart, but I ignore it.

“Hear me out,” he begs, his voice tinged with desperation and strain. He cautiously takes a step closer, but I firmly shake my head.

“No, Sebastian.”

“I promise you, Bella, I would never betray you like that. I was—”

“How stupid do you think I am?” My voice escalates, and I lower it when I notice a passing man walking his dog, raising an eyebrow in our direction. “You were alone in your apartment with another woman, half-naked.”

“She’s my doctor,” he insists.

I can’t help but laugh, though there’s no humor in it. “Sure. How long did it take you to come up with that excuse?”

He takes another step towards me, those dark eyes imploring. “Her name is Dr. Ingrid Berglund. She’s a pulmonologist. You can look her up.”

My anger wavers, and for a moment, doubt creeps in.

Could he be telling the truth?

As much as I want to believe him, I’ve been through too much already.

“Why was she there?” I know that even asking puts my fragile heart at risk once more.

“Because—” As he attempts to speak, he coughs uncontrollably, doubling over in a fit so violent he clutches his chest in pain. I take a step toward him, my anger momentarily replaced by concern.

“Are you okay?”

He doesn’t respond immediately, still wracked with coughing. But as he pulls his hand away from his mouth, it’s streaked with blood.

Alarmed, I gasp, “Sebastian.”

He shakes his head. “I’m okay, I just...I need you to know that I love you. So fucking much, Bella.”

I meet his gaze, and in that moment, I see the undeniable truth in his eyes. Despite the pain and confusion between us, his love for me is unwavering, and I can feel it deep within my soul.

He coughs again, and this time it’s even worse. He staggers and collapses onto my porch, gasping for breath. Panic courses through me when he pulls his hand back, displaying more streaks of bright red blood.

Without hesitation, I grab my phone and dial 911, my hands trembling. “I need an ambulance,” I say urgently, trying to keep my voice steady as I provide my address.

Fear grips me as I kneel beside him, and he struggles to breathe.

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