Chapter 45
forty-five
THE WATCHER
He was numb. Shattered.
That man stayed with her all night. Slept next to her all night.
Fucked her over and over again all night.
That man had taken her every way a man can take a woman, and she wanted it. Wanted him in her body, her mouth, her bed, her life.
He hated that man. He almost hated Bébhinn.
He hated himself the most. Had he talked to Bébhinn months ago, before Wales, maybe even before her father died, she would have never met that man.
What did he have left? How would he move past that? Would it matter if he finally told her what had been in his heart for so long now?
They’d had breakfast in bed, laughing and talking to each other like they’d been together for years. He had thought she’d only ever seen him the once after the hike.
He’d been wrong. This was clearly a relationship, not a one-off.
He closed his eyes and swallowed the pained scream that needed release. He couldn’t stand to look at her bed in its current state of disarray, but his eyes were glued to it, nonetheless.
Bébhinn and that man were in the shower.
Together.
They must have left the door open because he could hear muffled moaning and groaning. They were at it again.
Without her…without the hope of having her someday…
He should just lie down and die. Would she miss him? Would she cry at his funeral? Would she regret not choosing him?