ROLAND
For the fifth time in the last hour, I looked up from absolutely nothing and asked, “Has she texted you?”
Bella didn’t even bother lifting her head from her plate; she rolled her eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. “Eat your food, Roland.”
I stabbed the grilled chicken on my plate with my fork,
My appetite completely evaporated into thin air. “I’m eating.”
“You’re pestering me,” she corrected flatly, popping a fry into her mouth. “And it’s embarrassing.”
I glared at her across the dining table in our suite.
Our suite had three bedrooms and a shared living area with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the sea—the perfect definition of luxury and comfort.
And yet I felt like I was trapped in a box that kept getting smaller.
It’s been hours, hours since Alex drove off with
