Page 102 of Unwritten Rules

I don’t linger, hitching my breath when I spot a lone figure by the door waiting to bid me farewell.

As I approach, Wetherby’s words catch me unawares.

“It’s been the pleasure of my life to meet the lady who’s truly captured our Nathaniel’s heart.”

My forehead crumples, and a frog springs into my throat when I take in his kind, familiar face.

“How…why—”

That damn frog swells, making words an impossibility, and Wetherby steps forward to enfold me in his comforting embrace. He drops a peck atop my head before resting his cheek on it.

“I may never have married, but I know what true love looks like when I see it, dear Mila. So don’t give up on my boy.”

A single fat tear rolls down my cheek, splashing onto his grey housecoat, and I draw back, sending him a tremulous smile before fleeing this man who sees too much love and the house that’s known too little to dash out into the encroaching night.

My red Stingray is ready and waiting at the foot of the steps, so I grab the keys from Roland’s outstretched hands and slide into the driver’s seat, flooring the accelerator without so much as a backwards glance.

With no idea where to go, I just know I need to escape Hawthorne House before Nate’s inevitable return, and I’m almost at the end of the long driveway when another car enters the grounds.

I know it’s Phillippe’s long before I’ve reached it, and if Phillippe has returned, then there’s only one way he’d have known I’d already left the ball.

Nate’s with him. He has to be.

Rapidly hitting the brakes, I reverse back along the gravel until I can do a U-turn, gunning the accelerator to drive on past Hawthorne House in the direction of the grounds beyond.

I know from conversations with Johanna that there are several outhouses, gatehouses, and even a lake house on the property—basically, a million and one places to duck into and hide until he’s given up searching for me.

Because if he’s followed me here, he’s here for answers. And I can’t give them to him.

Glancing in my rear-view, I heave a sigh of relief when I see that Phillippe has pulled up outside the main house with no Nate in sight.

Overreact much, DeMarco?

I hit the brakes, spotting a turn to my left leading into a copse of trees. The perfect spot to hide out whilst I make a plan.

As I park my Corvette hidden within the safety of the trees, my heart sinks when suddenly and without warning, the heavens open, unleashing a veritable flood from above, no doubt the weather warning Wetherby had referred to.

“Just great.”

My words ring through my lonely car as I lay my forehead against the steering wheel to take a moment to re-evaluate what exactly it is that I’m doing here and how I came to this point.

Because you’re an idiot.

If I’d never tried to take things to the next level with Nate all those months ago, then none of this would have ever happened.

If I’d never believed Henry and Liv’s false speculation.

If I’d never fallen for the clever, well-placed words of my damn therapist – my soon-to-be stepfather, no less, and judging from my mum’s words earlier, the father of my future half-sibling.

Shit, shit, shit, fucking shit.

Maybe it’s time to take a page out of Nate’s book and just run from it all.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Three loud thumps on the driver’s window to my right frighten the living shit out of me, and upon realising who the perpetrator is, I allow my eyes to fall shut, unwilling to see Nate’s drenched face glaring in from outside.

“Get out, Hellcat. Right. The fuck. Now!”