Semua Bab WILL I EVER LOVE AGAIN?: Bab 71 - Bab 80

Usually, of course, his parcels and such were left for others to deal with.Not on this occasion.This was beyond personal, Raul thought as he looked at the ring.It was like holding a ghost—and one he didn’t even know.Bastiano was an orphan.Had this been his mother’s ring?What the hell had his mother been doing, taking such a ring from a teenager?A kid, really.They had been children then.Sure, they had thought they were adults, but what the hell...?His mind leapt to the defense of the seventeen-year-old Lovely.He was furious at how she’d been treated by adults who should have known better.And now he sat trying to do the hardest thing in his life—afford Bastiano the same feelings.‘Raul!’This time it wasn’t Allona.Instead a very pale Lovely stood in the doorway, in short pajamas.He could see all the tiny changes in her. Her hips were rounder, her breasts fuller, but he wasn’t really noticing them in reference to her being pregnant.Her hips were round and her breasts were

‘No, I don’t,’ Raul agreed. ‘I’ll like ours, though. Please believe that I’m not asking you to marry me because of the baby.’‘I know that.’She almost did.But by his own admission Raul was a manipulative liar, and there was still the tiniest niggle that he was simply saying the right things to appease her.But then she thought of his look of horror when she had exposed him. So unlike Arabella, who hadn’t even flinched at being caught.He seemed so loath to hurt her.She was scared, though, to believe.And as her mind flicked around, trying to find fault with this love, Raul lay sinking into his first glimpse of peace.That feeling—not quite foreboding, but almost—was fading. His constant wondering as to how she was had been answered. He thought of that first surge of jealousy when he’d thought that she and Bastiano might be lovers.And now they lay there together and he looked at her. ‘Were you jealous at the thought of Allona and me?’‘Of course I was.’‘Are you now?’‘No.’ She sho

Ellen de Luna POVI glance over at Apollo Kian.He’s slumped in the passenger seat of my car, staring out the window with a blank expression on his handsome face. The guy could be a movie star if he wanted. But it seems like all Apollo wants is to cause trouble and get in fights. I can’t help but wonder if it’s all a ploy to upset his dad, or to get attention.I can’t imagine how tough his life must have been, growing up without a mother and with a father that, while a good guy with his best interests at heart, was emotionally chilly.But the blank look on Apollo's face tells me he doesn't care about anything, not even the fact that he was just in jail, that I’d bailed him out, that he knows his dad is too mad to show up for him.In truth, his dad has seemed a bit off lately, and has been leaving work more often on errands he schedules in advance. I have no doubts he’s up to something - maybe he’s met another woman and that’s why he’s coming down harder on his son.“You’re staring at

Apollo Kian POV “No. Are you drunk?”“No.” Warm and comfortable, yes. Drunk, no. “Isn’t it your job to know people?”She sighs, making her way toward the window and giving me a great view of her ass in that little skirt. But she is as off limits as someone could get and I’m not interested. Am I? “Look, I meant it when I said you need to do better-”“But not when you agreed no lecturing,” I say with a wink as she turns to face me.Her expression tightens and she moves close to me, her voice low and angry. “You’re so selfish and, and, childish!”I arch an eyebrow, wondering if that’s the first time she’s ever insulted someone.With a slight smile, I lean in even closer until I’m inches from her face. She seems uncomfortable but unwilling to be the first to back down.“The second you resort to name-calling, you concede defeat.” I swear steam comes rolling out of her ears as her cheeks go pink. But her eyes betray her as her gaze drops to my lips.Well, if she’s going to be so obvious, I

I delete the next photo, and the next, and the next. Each image brings back memories, all bittersweet and painful, like being stabbed in the back while enjoying your favorite activity. Each moment, captured in my phone tells a story. Our first date. Our first kiss. Our first road trip to the beach where she’d surfed and I sat on the sand, watching her have a good time.Her kissing me on the cheek on our anniversary, cross-eyeing as she eats chocolate on Valentine’s Day. I delete them all, feeling a mix of pain and relief as I let her go. I realize I don’t miss her. I miss the fun, the adventures, and even the quiet nights in. I miss having a friend, a partner, a lover.I miss laughter and play, pillow fights and spraying each other with the kitchen faucet head. I miss waking her with kisses or breakfast, grabbing her backside as we made our morning coffee, that smile she’d throw over her shoulder when she knew I was behind her.And whisk away on a digital breeze ever last reminder of