With hope in my chest, I turned for home just as dusk fell. As the first stars were appearing, I unlocked the front door of my villa and walked in.
“Hello?”
No answer, and the house had that empty feel to it. It didn’t take long for me to realize that Nora wasn’t there. I sat on the couch, deflated. That was when I noticed the note on the coffee table. It was written in Nora’s neat strokes, and the message turned my blood cold.
“Goodbye, Brydie. Stay safe.”
I leaped from the couch and ran into her bedroom, slamming open the door. My gaze flicked around the room, noting the tidy bed, the lack of clothes in the closet. I ran to the bathroom, yanking open the drawers under the vanity. All her possessions were gone. My heart pounded as I confirmed what I feared— Nora had gone.
My hands clenched into fists. There was a loud roaring in my ears as logic warred with reason. I could ignore it no longer. The facts were clear.
Nora had turned up on my doorstep two days after my parents died. She’d taken me under her wing during the last two months, supporting me through my grief, making all the necessary funeral arrangements, and dealing with all the legal documents relating to my parents’ estate. At seventeen years old, I’d still been a minor, and she had sole jurisdiction to make decisions on my behalf. And clearly, she had. Then today, a few days after my eighteenth birthday, I’d heard that she’d receive one half of my parents’ estate. And now, hours later—she was gone.
The knowledge of what had just happened sunk in. Nora had won. She’d got what she’d come for, what she most desired. But that prize hadn’t been me—oh no, that prize had been the money that would be wired into her account in a few days.
The truth pooled in a cold pit in my belly. Tears pricked at my eyelids, but I refused to let them fall. She didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve anything.
From that point forward, Nora ceased to exist.
“Brydie? Honey, are you okay?”
I blinked, swallowing the ashes of that memory now three years past, and focused on Chloe, whose face was pinched with concern.
“I’m fine.” My voice was thick with emotion as I added, “I just have no idea how I’m going to survive the next six months without you.”
Chloe reached out and grabbed my hand, squeezing it warmly. “I know, babe.”
Then she sat up straight, her face lighting up suddenly. “That’s the thing—you don’t have to, Brydie! You could accept your inheritance. You should think about it some more. Imagine meeting up in Scotland together! It would be perfect, especially as I’m spending the last three months in the U.K. anyway.”
I immediately shook my head, flinching as it gave a sharp twinge. “I can’t, Chloe. I don’t want any part of my inheritance.”
Her face fell; she knew I was dead serious. Then she shrugged, her disappointment forgotten. “Sure, babe. Besides, there’ll be other opportunities for us to go on holiday together.”
I gave her a small smile in return. “I hope so.”
She put her elbows on the table, settling her chin into her palm. “I still can’t believe I’ll be working for my father. Who would have thought?”
Chloe had followed in Patrick’s footsteps by taking up a career in architecture. She’d graduated at the top of her class, and as the most successful graduate, she’d been awarded a permanent placement in his firm. It was a much vied for position, and Chloe had claimed that right on her own merits. Her adoptive parents couldn’t have been prouder. As a graduation present, Patrick and Margaret had gifted her a return ticket to Europe. I knew they hoped to remove the travel bug from her system early on, and for their own selfish reasons, didn’t want to lose Chloe on an extended overseas experience, like so many other twenty-somethings in New Zealand.
Chloe totally deserved it. She’d fought the system and won. Her relationship with Patrick and Margaret was the turning point she needed all those years ago, someone who could offer her not just the space she needed, but the affection she craved. Although she often claimed it wasn’t them but our friendship that had been the beginning of the change, I begged to differ. Patrick and Margaret were an amazing couple and very dear to my heart. I viewed them as my surrogate parents, or as much as I could let them accept that mantle.
“I’m so happy you have this opportunity. I need you to promise me that you will have the best time ever—but on one condition; don’t take any unnecessary risks, I want you back in six months’ time!”
Her eyes sparkled as she gave me a mischievous smile. “You think I’m going to meet the man of my dreams and not come back?”
I cocked a brow. “Knowing you, that’s not impossible! Besides, look at you—you’re bound to rock someone’s world over there.”
The smile was abruptly wiped from her face as her gaze caught something behind me.
“Chloe?” I turned in my seat. It didn’t take me long to understand what she’d seen. Or rather, who she’d seen.
James. Standing with the woman he’d cheated on me with.
My heart flipped. The sight of them side by side brought back the memory of finding them locked together in his bed.
Shit!
I spun around to face Chloe. I’d managed to avoid James since I’d broken off our engagement two months before. I didn’t need this right now. Not after last night, and not before the goodbyes to come.
“Stop staring at them!” I hissed.
Her eyes glinted as she caught my gaze. “I’ve been waiting on this moment, Bry. Now’s my chance to tell him what an asshole he is! No one treats my girl like that!”
“No! Please, Chloe—not here, not now!”
She stared at me, catching the desperation in my voice. A small frown marred her brow as she considered my request. Then, she inclined her head. I released my breath in a rush of relief and dropped my eyes to my plate, absently rubbing a sharp prickle at the back of my neck.
I had barely touched my pizza. I wasn’t hungry, but I lifted a cold slice to my mouth and chewed slowly. All I could think about was how desperate I was to leave. But standing up would draw attention to myself, and that I didn’t want. I just had to lay low until they were seated, then we could leave.
Chloe cleared her throat and hissed under her breath. I knew without looking up that James had seen us. I kept my head down, mulishly forcing myself to swallow the food past my locked throat. My stomach churned as a pair of polished shoes appeared at the foot of our table.
“Chloe.”
A shiver went through me at that smooth urbane voice. The tone was cold, almost contemptuous, as it always was when he addressed Chloe. Hearing it caused a flurry of emotions, all vying for optimum position. I held back the remembered pain of his betrayal and lifted my head, looking him straight in the eye.
“Hi, James.”
He was already looking at me, and it appeared to be the cue he was waiting for. His lips lifted into a charming smile. “Hi, baby.”
8
Brydie
The familiar endearment punctured my chest. It used to mean a lot, once.