Zara rushed home in a cab, her chest tight, her thoughts in chaos.
What was even happening?
What had just happened with Adrian?
That wasn’t him. It really wasn’t.
Yes, she had noticed that he might have feelings for her but he hadn’t needed to go that far. Kissing her like that, without permission. And yet, despite everything, guilt twisted painfully in her stomach.
She had slapped him.
“Oh my God…” she muttered to herself.
Later, standing under the shower, warm water cascading down her skin, Zara replayed the scene over and over in her mind the hotel garden, his words, the kiss, the slap.
We’re never going to be the same again, she thought bitterly.
What hurt the most was the truth she couldn’t ignore: Adrian was the only person besides the nun who had truly been there for her. T
