Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
I wanted him to know that.
And yet I couldn’t say anything.
So I was leaving. I was leaving him to fight alone.
You are horribly selfish, Odette. That thought was the thunder, and that was what shook me. The realization that I paled in comparison to the great person I wanted to be, who I wished I was. The me that I wanted to be should have let him come in, should have faced him. Should be facing everything with him.
I should be better for him.
I should be so much more.
Maybe someone else will be. I thought about the long line of people who would line up after me and try to take him.
I had a vision of him walking down the aisle with someone else—because he couldn’t be a bachelor king—and I was just a thought fading from his memory. Everything that we had been through being nothing but a memory, and that made my heart ache.
This was why I hated thinking because I couldn’t stop when I started. For the whole car ride, thoughts of “what-if” and “what could have been” filled my mind, crushing me from the inside out.
“We are here, miss,” Wolfgang said, and sure enough, when I looked up, we were at the private jet, waiting on the airstrip. The plan was for me to fly to France and then take a flight out of the country. That way, I wouldn’t draw any attention.
“Let’s go, sweetheart,” my mother whispered, squeezing my hand and nodding as we stepped out of the car.
I wasn’t strong enough.
I inhaled the air again, my shoulders dropping. I really wasn’t strong enough.
I was slightly hungover. But I wanted to drink again.
Opening my eyes, I stared up at the painted ceiling above me and wondered if I would know when it was late enough for me to drink again. I didn’t want to know the time, and I didn’t want to see anyone. I was taking the damn day off. I wanted to lay here, drink, and look up at the painted baby angels on the ceiling until it was tomorrow.
Knock.
Knock.
“Go away!” Didn’t I make myself clear? No one meant no one.
Knock.
Knock.
I thought about throwing the bottle at the door, but I knew that would only cause more people to come—one of them being my mother. Sitting up from the couch, I glared at the door.
Knock.
Knock.
“You better be coming in to tell me the country is under attack!” I hollered.
The door opened, and sure enough, it was Iskandar’s bored face staring back at me.
“Is the country under attack?”
“No, sir.”
“So, you are here because?”
“Wolfgang—”
“Yes, I know she’s left!” I snapped, not knowing why he wished to pour salt all over me as I was bleeding. Could he not see? Did he not hear? Could he not smell the alcohol coming off me? “Iskandar, I know I have waited for you to show more emotions than a rock, but try another time?”
He frowned at me, his eyes unimpressed. “Yes, sir. Forgive me. I should simply let Miss Wyntor meet you again in yesterday’s clothes and reeking of alcohol.”
I froze.
And he froze as well.
I stared, confused. “What?”
“Wolfgang called. He and Miss Wyntor will be here in ten minutes.”
“Miss Wyntor as in Odette? Are you sure it is Odette?”
“I do not know the details, sir. But it is her.”
“But she should en route to France.”
He shrugged. I think it was the first time I had seen him shrug.
I glanced down at my clothes, the bottle of finished brandy on the table, and then back at him.
“You shall be a sight for her, I am sure, sir.”
“Balduin!” I hollered, putting my drink down and running out the door past him into the hall.
“Yes, sir?” Balduin yelled back as I ran up the stairs.
“Have someone clean up my study and get rid of the bottles!” I called down to him as I went up the stairs by two.
“How long did you say?” I asked, knowing Iskandar was right behind me.
“You have nine minutes now, sir.”
Shit! Making it to my room, I stripped off my clothes and shoes before rushing into the bathroom, splashing water on my face and the rest of me, brushing my teeth and gargling mouthwash as quickly as I could. When I came back out to look for fresh clothes, there Iskandar stood, holding on to them for me—an amused look on his face.
“Oh, shut up,” I snapped at him, taking the clothes. “I can’t wait for the day you fall in love and see how stupid you act.”
“Four minutes, sir,” he said without missing a beat, still grinning.
“Why did they not call sooner!” I snapped at him, hopping into my pants.
“I do not know, sir.”
Ignoring him, I buttoned my shirt. I wasn’t sure what to think. Why was she coming back? We hadn’t spoken in days. Maybe she was coming to have me sign divorce papers again. Shaking my head, I did my best not to care. Whatever the reason, even if it were for a final goodbye, I’d still be glad to see her, to know we both at least didn’t end on that night.