Semua Bab Enemies To Soulmates : Bab 121 - Bab 130

PRINCESS I pulled away from Frank's arms, taking a step back and putting some distance between us because I needed space to think and also because hugging my ex-fiancé who may or may not have been tortured by my family felt extremely complicated. "Let's not do that," I said, gesturing vaguely at the space where we'd just been hugging. "This is already confusing enough without adding physical contact to the mix." I sat down on the bench and he joined me, keeping a respectful distance this time. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and when he looked at me, his expression was so vulnerable and hopeful that it made my chest ache. "Do you still love me, Princess?" he asked quietly. The question hit me like a physical blow. Did I still love him? Of course I still loved him, I'd loved him for three years and almost three months apart hadn't magically erased that, but admitting it out loud felt like a betrayal of something, though I wasn't sure if it was a betrayal of

DAMON The first time I saw Princess was at the airport. I'd been standing there with a photo Sky had sent me, scanning the crowd for a face that matched the picture, when I spotted her. I called out to her, and when she turned and started walking toward me, something in my chest shifted. Actually stopped, more like. My heart literally stopped beating for a second, which was medically concerning and also completely unprecedented in all my years of existence. Because the photo Sky had sent me, the one I'd been using to identify her, did not do this woman justice. Not even close. She was beautiful in a way that made you forget what you were supposed to be doing, made you forget your own name, made you forget that you were supposed to be a functional adult human being with responsibilities and self-control. And I remember thinking, very clearly, "Well, this is going to be a problem." When I was seventeen, my best friend Matthieu had been completely head over heels in l

PRINCESS "What are you talking about?" I asked Frank, completely confused by his sudden outburst.He was staring at me with this intense, almost suspicious expression that I'd never seen on his face before."Are you with me because you love me, or because you feel pity for me?" he asked, his voice tight with something I couldn't quite identify.The question caught me completely off guard."Why are you asking me that?" I said, genuinely bewildered. "Of course I love you, Frank. If I didn't, why would I be here with you right now? Why would I have agreed to any of this?"He studied my face for a long moment, then his expression softened and he smiled."You're right," he said, shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry. I'm probably just overthinking things. Being paranoid because everything feels too good to be true."But something about the exchange made me feel suddenly, acutely uncomfortable.The atmosphere in the hotel room shifted, became awkward in a way it hadn't been before.Frank s

ASHER I couldn't remember the last time I'd been surrounded by this many beautiful women. Actually, that was a lie—it was probably last month at that film premiere in Milan. But this felt different somehow. Maybe because I was actually sober enough to appreciate it. I usually avoided family events like the plague unless there was a contractual obligation or someone would literally never forgive me if I didn't show up. This qualified as the latter since Princess had given me the look when she asked if I was coming. You know the look—the one that says "I brought you into this world and I can take you out of it" except it's your little sister so it's more like "I'll tell Mom you said her cooking was just okay." Terrifying either way. Normally at events like this, I'd be in my element. The king of one-night stands and casual flings, working the room, unable to choose among so many interested parties because why limit yourself to just one when the buffet is so extensive

PRINCESS After standing there for a while watching Damon walk away, I couldn't let him just leave. Not after everything. Not after searching for him all day in a wedding dress like some kind of romantic comedy protagonist who'd lost her mind. I followed him into the house and went straight to his door. I knocked, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might break through my ribcage. He opened the door and looked at me with an expression that was somewhere between annoyed and exhausted. "What do you want?" he asked flatly. "I'm sorry," I said. He folded his arms across his chest. "What for?" "For everything," I responded, because where would I even start with a specific list? For choosing Frank, for breaking up with you, for being an idiot, for not realizing sooner, for existing, take your pick really. He looked at me for a long moment, and then stepped aside and opened the door wider. "Come in," he said. I sighed in relief and walked into his room, the familiar space ma