Page 100 of Unwritten Rules

I’d known she had been seeing someone as she’d had that fresh glow about her, and her overnight and weekend trips away had increased tenfold, but I’d known better than to enquire, knowing that she’d open up if he was a keeper.

How wrong I was to wait.

The memory of our final evening session washes over me as Mum launches into a tirade about my deceased grandfather and his twisted idea of penance.

* * *

“Thanks for dinner, Liv. I’ll see you guys on Sunday.”

My sister-in-law embraces me as much as her bump will allow, kissing each cheek. “Chat soon, Mila.”

She moves off in the direction of her office, no doubt to continue her plans on the next branch of her non-profit, Katherine’s House.

I grab my keys and head for the front door, only to come up short when I hear my brother’s voice coming from their office.

My feet take me closer without conscious thought as I strain to hear what he’s saying.

“I don’t know what’s up with him, Peach. He’s dropped off the face of the fucking earth.”

Henry sounds irate, which is nothing new for him, but when Liv speaks, the worry is apparent in her own voice. “Has he ever just disappeared before?”

“Well...” I can hear the smirk in my brother’s voice. “When he met Zara, they ran off to hump like rabbits.”

Liv’s laugh chimes through the office and out into the hall, where my face has fallen.

“There you have it, then. He’s definitely met someone. He had the look of a man in love in Devon, don’t you think?”

I move away stiffly. My heart is palpitating so hard, all I can hear is the blood pumping in my own ears, and I think I might faint.

He’s in love. He’s found someone.

Someone that’s not you.

All these months, I’ve clung to the idea that maybe, just maybe, I could win him round. That I didn’t imagine things between us.

That I wasn’t just the little girl with the big crush.

I rush from the house, tears on my cheeks while screaming internally for being such a damn fool.

* * *

I’d drove straight to my session with Taylor and confided in him. I was hurt and crying. And angry enough at myself that when he’d kissed me – though I’d initially pushed him away – I’d allowed myself to be carried away in the hopes of forgetting.

I’d known immediately afterwards that I’d made a colossal mistake. So, despite Taylor’s assurances that we could easily forget about it as he’d disposed of the condom, I’d fled and thrown up for hours and hours, sick to my stomach at my own stupidity. Crying stupid tears for the friend that I missed above all others.

But all it had done was make an even bigger mess when my mother had suddenly arranged to introduce me to her new fiancé the following day over lunch.

* * *

“Mila, darling. We’re over here.”

Mum’s voice carries over the outdoor dining area at La Bottega, a lovely little Italian café near my Chelsea penthouse.

When I spot her waving her hand over the crowded area, I can’t help but smile broadly. She’s my polar opposite with her chin-length blonde hair, and pale English rose skin, but we’re the exact same height and proportions, so at least I got that rather than my brother’s size.

As I reach the table, my steps falter, and my stomach dips when I take in the second person sitting there.

I know those shoulders.