That night, the thought of her alone with her agent, kissing or moaning beneath that arsehole made me angrier and sad at the same time. Thankfully, before I could do something stupid, Austen took back what he said and that he was only messing with me.
There was a part of me wanted to knock on her door, but I had to keep myself apart to rethink what I did for her and what I sacrificed still mattered for both of us. In my heart, I knew I still loved Westley. I never doubted that. My heart always ached when I thought how good we were together, then in an instant, I let my anger and rage consumed me, and I ended up screwing things up between us.
I hadn’t realized how much I loved her until she was no longer with me. I could still remember the hatred look on her face before she bolted out of
