“It hurt,” she said. “Everything hurt. For days and weeks.” He closed his eyes, his chest tightening at the words as she went on. “I missed you like air. I would wake up, in the dark, in the dank, in the rain, in the cold. And I missed you. And I climbed those fucking buildings in Mayfair, and counted the fucking chimneys, and imagined that one day you would leave him. And leave that place. And leave your title, and come back to us.” Her eyes were full of tears, glistening in the candlelight. “No. Not us. Me. I imagined you would come back to me.” One tear spilled over, dropping on the hand he
...more
