Page 195 of When We Ignite
I nodded.
“Finance?” she asked, pressing her hands to my shoulders, that proud look flickering back into place.
“Yeah. Does it make sense to you?”
“It really does. And Oli can help.I’m so proud of you, E.”
The tension in my chest loosened just a little more.
Then, in the background, our parents’ voices rose again—this time at each other. The argument had shifted, dragging up years of resentment that hadnothingto do with Sebastian or me.
I sighed. “For fuck’s sake.”
Charlotte huffed a quiet laugh. “Come on,” she whispered, taking my hand. “Let’s face this head-on.”
As she pulled me toward them, my gaze flickered to the door separating us fromhim.
Sebastian had been right all along.
I’d torn his life apart.
And I couldn’t even be there for him as he dealt with the fallout.
* * *
I couldn’t set foot outside my apartment. The two times I’d tried, I was swarmed by paparazzi, their voices overlapping as they hurled invasive questions about my relationship with Sebastian.
Charlotte had asked me to stay with them, but I didn’t want to drag them into this mess too. And I sure as hell wasn’t about to stay with either of my parents.
Maya had followed me after the wedding, keeping me company in my forced confinement.
She was the only thing keeping me sane.
Patiently, she listened as I recounted everything—every moment of our relationship, every detail I could share, every reassurance I needed. She reminded me that, yes, he did care about me. And no, it wasn’t fucking assault.
She also didn’t hold back from scolding me for disappearing from her life over the summer. I knew things with Sebastian had been intense, new. And maybe I had lost myself in him a little.
But it was love.Reallove.
I had no idea it would blow up this much.
The article was brutal. Not just the title—every single thing about it. The pictures. The captions. The way they twisted our relationship into something ugly.
There was a shot of us shopping, Sebastian handing me a gift bag while whispering in my ear, his other hand resting dangerously low on my back. Another at a restaurant, where he kissed my neck while I checked my phone absently, as if I couldn’t care less. Then one of me trying on sunglasses in front of a mirror, Sebastian pressed against my back, smirking at our reflection.
They had done their homework. Every angle, every carefully curated moment painted me as Sebastian Langley’s spoiled, kept boy.
Most of the photos were from Barcelona. Which meant, on top of everything, I had to explain why I left the country without telling anyone. Charlotte had my back, swearing to our parents that she knew. That landed her smack in the middle of the chaos too—for “enabling the abuse.”
My dad refused to drop his crusade to press charges against Sebastian.
I thought it would be a moot point since I had no intention of following through, but apparently, my parents could try to file for a restraining order without my consent. And until it was officially dismissed, there could be no contact between us.
No visits. No calls. No texts. It was even fucking illegal for him to have someone else tell me he was okay.
It was so fucking unfair, I’d rage-cried more than once.
I wasn’t speaking to either of my parents, and the forced silence between me and Sebastian had me at my breaking point.
