Page 68 of Release Me
‘I was with Avery, Ivy, Scarlett and the rest of the Becketts.’ I take a mouthful of wine.
His eyes snap up. ‘The Becketts?’ His tone is incredulous.
‘Yep.’ I pop the p, then take another sip from my glass while he digests that little piece of information. ‘At Silverpine.’
‘You were in Wicklow? Was Rian there?’ Anthony’s face is turning a vivid shade of violet.
Does he suspect I was in another man’s arms not twelve hours ago?
Does he care?
‘All the Becketts were there.’ I lean against the worktop, not bothering to remove my coat. I’m not even sure I’m staying. Then again, with my friends all in Wicklow, it’s not like I’ve got anywhere else to go. ‘You know, it turns out that some men actually like to ring in the New Year with their wives.’
‘For fuck’s sake, Rebekka,’ he spits, banging his fist down on the island. ‘This is so embarrassing.’
‘What’s embarrassing? That everyone asked where you were? Or that our friends just accepted you were away with your fancy woman and didn’t want to leave me here on my own for New Year?’
He flinches then. ‘They’remyfriends, Rebekka,’ he snaps. ‘You’d do well to remember that.’
Ha. That’s what he thinks. I’m in no mood to argue with him.
‘I’m going for a bath.’
‘Don’t drown,’ he says sarcastically.
Oh, I’m drowning alright, drowning in the misery of this marriage.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
RIAN
It’s been forty-two days—six weeks exactly—since I watched Rebekka disappear down the drive at Silverpine. Six weeks since I’ve seen her in the flesh, six weeks since I kissed her, six weeks since I held her in my arms. The scent of her skin is burned into my memory, the feel of her flesh curled against mine. And her face is still the only one I see every time I close my eyes, but I also see it in glossy magazines, and brief glimpses on the TV—such are the circles we move in.
Okaymagazine featured a two-page spread of her and Anthony at some charity gala, his hand welded to the small of her back. A breakfast TV show interviewed her about Remington’s spring releases beneath bright studio lights. She conducted herself with perfect poise and grace as always, but there’s no missing the dullness in her irises, or the way her smile failed to reach her eyes.
I promised I’d stay away, and I have—at least physically. But every time her name pops up in print, every time I catch a photo of her tightly pursed lips, it rips my chest right open with a wound that only she can stitch.
The magazine lies open on my desk now, a photo of herfrozen smile while Anthony stares down the lens beside her. My coffee’s gone cold. My inbox is full. And I’m just here, staring like an idiot.
‘You’re meant to be working, not brooding over the society pages.’ Sean’s voice cuts through the quiet as he steps into my office without knocking—as usual. He drops into the armchair in the corner of the room, stretching his legs out and surveying my desk. ‘Didn’t realise you’d taken up a subscription toHello! magazine.’
‘It’sOkay, actually,’ I mutter. His eyes narrow, landing on the photo before I can shove it into a drawer.
‘Ah.’ He leans back, linking his hands behind his head.
‘Don’t start,’ I warn, but my voice lacks bite.
‘Rian…’ Sean lets out a low sigh. ‘I get it. She’s gorgeous. She’s also married—and not just married, married to your oldest friend. If Anthony even so much as suspected what’s going on in that head of yours—let alone whatever happened between you two in Wicklow—it’ll be a bloodbath. For you. For her. For all of us. The De Courcys are not a family you fuck with.’
‘I know,’ I grind out, rubbing the back of my neck. ‘You don’t need to spell it out.’
‘Someone has to.’ He studies me, expression steady. ‘You’re not built for half-measures. If you keep circling her, you’re going to cross a line you can’t uncross—and it won’t end well for anyone.’
I let out a humourless laugh. ‘It’s not like I can help it.’ I cut myself off, shaking my head.
Sean watches me for a beat, then leans forward, elbows on his knees. ‘Don’t sit here torturing yourself in limbo. That’s the worst place you can live.’
He’s right. I know he’s right.
