Novels by Bea whitmore

Amelia didn’t look back when the elevator doors closed.Her reflection stared at her from the mirrored walls. Hair slightly messy. Lips swollen. Eyes clearer than they had been the night before.For a few hours, she had forgotten everything.Now reality waited outside the hotel doors.When she stepped onto the street, the air felt sharper. Colder. She pulled her coat tighter around her and walked quickly, her heels clicking against the pavement.Her phone buzzed the moment she turned it back on.Missed calls.Voicemails.Messages from Evan.Messages from her father.One from Natasha.You always act like the victim. Grow up.Amelia deleted them all without listening.She stopped at a quiet café, retrieved her suitcase from where she had left it with the owner, and sat down long enough to breathe. Her hands trembled slightly as she wrapped them around a cup of coffee.The ring on her finger caught her attention.She stared at it.It was too expensive to belong in her life. Too deliberat

Morning light crept in through the tall hotel windows, pale and quiet.Amelia stirred slowly, her body heavy, pleasantly sore, wrapped in sheets that smelled like him. For a brief, fragile moment, she forgot where she was. Forgot why she was there. The ache in her chest was distant, muted, as if the night had pressed pause on her grief.Then memory returned.The engagement party.The door.The bed.Her eyes opened fully.She lay still, listening. The room was silent except for the low hum of the city far below. She turned her head toward the other side of the bed.Empty.Her heart jumped, though she didn’t know why. It wasn’t disappointment exactly. More like a sharp awareness that whatever had happened between them had been temporary by design.She pushed herself up and gathered the sheet around her, scanning the room. Alexander’s jacket hung over the back of a chair. His watch rested neatly on the bedside table. He hadn’t vanished.Relief settled quietly in her chest.She swung her

Paris was alive in a way Amelia had never noticed before.The city breathed around her as she walked, suitcase abandoned at a quiet corner café, her heels now in her hand. The cobblestone streets were cool beneath her bare feet. Neon lights reflected off wet pavement, and voices in different languages blended into a low, constant hum.She welcomed the noise. It drowned out her thoughts.She didn’t know how long she walked. Minutes. Hours. Time had lost its meaning the moment she stepped out of that house. All she knew was that standing still felt dangerous. If she stopped, the memories would catch up. Evan’s hands on Natasha. Sylvia’s cold eyes. Her father’s silence.So she kept moving.She passed couples laughing over wine, tourists posing for photos, strangers who had no idea her world had ended a few hours ago. It felt strange, almost insulting, that the world could continue so effortlessly while she struggled just to breathe.Her phone vibrated in her bag. She ignored it.At some

Amelia sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the closed door long after the house fell quiet.The muffled sounds of the party had faded. Guests had left. Congratulations had turned into whispers, then into nothing at all. Somewhere downstairs, dishes clinked as staff cleaned up the remnants of a celebration that no longer belonged to her.Her suitcase stood open at her feet, half-filled. She hadn’t moved in several minutes.The silence pressed in, heavy and suffocating.A knock came, sharp and impatient.“Amelia,” Sylvia called from the other side. “Open this door.”Amelia didn’t answer.The handle rattled. “I know you’re in there.”Slowly, Amelia stood and crossed the room. She unlocked the door and stepped back.Sylvia walked in first, arms crossed, her lips pressed into a thin line. Natasha followed, eyes bright with something that looked too much like victory.“Well,” Sylvia said, looking around the room. “You’ve certainly caused enough trouble for one night.”Amelia blinked. “I

Amelia didn’t remember walking. Only the sensation of cold air against her skin and the sound of the door slamming shut behind her.The garden lights blurred as she crossed the lawn. Her heels sank slightly into the grass, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t slow down. If she did, she feared she might collapse right there, in the middle of white flowers and fairy lights meant to celebrate a love that had never truly existed.Her chest burned. Each breath felt too shallow, too sharp.She reached the low stone wall at the edge of the property and gripped it, finally allowing herself to bend forward. Her curls fell into her face as she gasped, trying to steady herself.Inside the house, music still played. Laughter still rang. People were still raising glasses to her happiness.They had no idea.She pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling a sob that clawed its way up her throat. Her engagement ring dug painfully into her palm. She opened her hand and stared at it. The diamond caught the light,

Amelia Charles stood in front of the mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back at her.She looked happy. Radiant, even.The champagne-colored dress hugged her curves like it had been sewn directly onto her body. The tailor had called her a “walking dream” when he pinned the final seam. Her caramel skin glowed under the soft lights of her bedroom, and her dark curls fell down her back in loose waves. A diamond necklace rested against her collarbone, Evan’s gift, catching the light every time she moved.This was supposed to be the happiest night of her life.“Smile,” she whispered to her reflection.She did. It came easily. Amelia had learned long ago how to smile even when things felt unsteady beneath the surface. Tonight, though, the smile felt real. Or at least, she wanted it to be.Her engagement party was in full swing downstairs. She could hear the clink of glasses, the hum of music, laughter floating up the staircase like proof that everything was finally going right. Aft