Chapter Seventy Two

Edwina

Not that I was hoping he’d come looking for me, but I didn’t see Max for a while—not even in church. The empty pew where he usually sat was like a hollow reminder that maybe I’d gone too far with him the last Sunday I saw him.

My mind kept replaying it over and over: the way he pulled me out of the street, saving me from becoming nothing more than a road pancake, and how I, in all my brilliance, shoved his help right back in his face by ramming my fist into his gut.

What kind of thank-you was that? He probably hadn’t liked it. Maybe he’d decided I wasn’t worth all the trouble. The thought stung like lemon juice on a paper cut. But wasn’t it the truth?

After all, he was the Crown Prince of Mercia—a billionaire’s son with the world at his feet and an endless lineup of women who would never dare punch him for saving their lives. Me? I was just… me. Ordinary. Stubborn. Too quick to lash out when cornered.

I finally forgave Steven for what he did, but our friendship had shifted in