Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 118965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
The contentedness that softened Sabella’s eyes after our wild sex turns into something that makes those pools glitter with unshed tears and hurt. Her voice is flat, all the passion gone from her tone. “No, he didn’t tell me.”
Yeah. I’m the devil. If she ever doubted that, now it’s confirmed. I’m her worst nightmare, the man she’s tied to for life.
She faces forward again as if she can’t stand the sight of me any longer. “What did you say?”
“I said I’d get hold of you and get back to them. I asked Ryan to call, thinking he’d have a better chance of reaching you than me. He left several messages.”
Sabella pulls her back straight and says with defiance clearly aimed at me, “You can tell them I say yes. They’re welcome to use my video.”
“What about the filming?” Her mother hesitates. “They can’t wait much longer for you to confirm.”
Her narrow shoulders go rigid. “What filming?”
“They want to film in Great Brak River, and they want you to go with them.”
The pink of her nails turns white in her death grip on the phone. “When?”
“In the summer. October or November, I think. I can’t remember exactly.” Margaret breaks off before continuing with caution, “We thought it might be an opportunity for you to visit us.”
Sabella’s hand trembles a little as she tilts her head and clutches the phone against her ear. “I’ll let you know.”
“It’s been so long.” Margaret’s voice quivers. “We miss you.”
“I miss you too, Mom.”
“Love you, honey.”
“Love you, Mom.”
Sabella doesn’t resist when I take the phone from her hand and end the call.
She sits like a rag doll, staring through the window. “What did you tell them about the filming?”
It’s not the path I would’ve chosen for her if she’d given me a choice. I’d much rather let her continue her studies in Marseille as per my original plan. Albeit, devils are devils, the destructors of hope and crushers of dreams.
“Nothing,” I say. “Yet.”
She nods. “What are you going to tell them?”
And I’m the man who has to tell her, “No.”
She nods again, her gaze fixed on something in the distance. “I see.”
Her quiet manner cuts me deeply. I prefer that she rants and raves. That, I can handle. I can’t stand how she shuts down right in front of my eyes. If only she knew that disappointing her hurts me a million times more, she could’ve taken comfort from that.
I reach out to touch her, but before I can place my hand on her shoulder, she stands. Tall and regal. She’s holding herself together like a queen. My mother would’ve been proud of this woman. My father would’ve respected her. My sister would’ve liked her. But no one can love her like I do.
“Sabella.”
She walks past me and out the door.
Me, I do what monsters do. I do what I always do. I take my car keys from my pocket and leave to run a business. To provide for a family. To keep us all safe from the pitfalls and the dangers that come with the life into which I was born.
Chapter
Nine
Sabella
* * *
Filming with National Geographic is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The mere fact that they invited an undergraduate dropout is a miracle. Most people only get to join an excursion of such magnitude once they qualified with the highest academic accolades and proved themselves in the field. Either they’re very impressed with my shark video, or Mrs. Powell’s contact has considerable influence.
Disappointment leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I tell myself it’s for the best. I’m not going to finish my degree or work in the field, so what’s the point? It’s better that they ask someone who’s serious about furthering her career.
Every time the bitterness of cruel disillusionment pushes up in my throat, I give myself the same justifications, but no matter how many times I repeat those words, it doesn’t change the fact that Angelo deceived me. He’s doing it time and again, proving that I can never trust him. Whatever he rekindled when he vowed to give me back a measure of freedom and choice—at least when it comes to pregnancy—has been nullified by this single act of betrayal.
I keep a routine that gives me the illusion of normality. During the day, I live my secret life in the village. It’s the only thing that keeps me sane. At night, I’m my husband’s prisoner, locked up in his house. In this too, we fall back onto our old habits. I greet him naked on my knees, and he fucks me. We’re using condoms until I can go back onto the pill after my next period.
It’s not an awful life. The house is beautiful, and the view is spectacular. I’m living in my dream location, which is anywhere on the coast. I don’t want for food or clothes or the finer luxuries that come with a wealthy lifestyle. In summer, I’ll be able to swim in the sea. I have a lot to look forward to. I honor the oath I made myself, working hard on being happy. I’ll never rely on anyone else to take care of that task. The lessons I learned were hard, but they made me stronger, and I have Angelo to thank for that.