The Reigning and the Rule (The Surviving Time Series Book 2) by Calia Read

Author:Calia Read [Read, Calia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independently Published
Published: 2018-11-16T18:30:00+00:00

The next morning, I wake up with a pounding headache. The sunlight pours in through the windows so strongly, I swear it’s ridiculing me for last night’s drunk escapades. Wincing, I tuck my tangled hair behind one ear and slowly prop myself up on my elbow. Even so, I still feel as though I might vomit at any given moment.

Precisely how much alcohol did I consume last night?

I remember walking into Belgrave and immediately starting the night with champagne. I remember all the drinks during dinner. I remember how loud Nicholas and I were and not giving a tiny rat’s ass.

Now, I’m internally cringing. Shame heavily clings to me. I rub my temples and fight the urge to lie back down and hide underneath the sheets.

I’m willing to bet I drank everyone at the rehearsal dinner under the table and then some. That doesn’t mean I got blackout drunk. Some portions of the night are spotty, but I remember ninety percent of it. Which means I remember everything that occurred when Étienne took me up to his room.

I cover my face with my hands. “Oh, God,” I mumble.

What the hell was I thinking? I can say every single day I hate Étienne, and there’s a good chance there’s a sliver of truth to that. He’s deeply hurt me with his actions, but it’s been said that when someone’s drunk, their inhibitions are lowered and their true feelings shine through.

I still love Étienne. I still want him like I need my next breath, and I hate myself for that. I’ve always prided myself on being a strong-minded woman and admitting that almost feels like a sign of weakness. How can I love someone who’s hurt me? Better yet, how can I love someone who’s engaged to someone else?

That’s the tricky part about love. The façade is so incredibly alluring that once you step into its clutches, you realize it has multifaceted layers, and when the light shines onto the surfaces, it’s not a pretty sight. You try to back out, but it’s too late to escape. One of those dark layers is the sickening realization that when you hand your heart over to someone, you automatically lose the option of yanking it back if they wound you.

You merely have to hope to God you chose right.

I picture the empty ache of where my heart once was in my chest while Étienne squeezes it tightly in his hand. Blood oozes out from between his fingers, yet he doesn’t realize it.

Outside his room, I can hear servants moving around. Their voices carry beneath the door and make me realize I have no idea what time it is. It’s Nat’s wedding day, and hungover or not, I need to get the hell out of Belgrave and back to Charleston. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m attempting to sneak out without Étienne noticing. My embarrassment over my actions last night is bad enough. I don’t need Étienne to shine a light on them, which is precisely what he’ll do.

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