Chapter 57
Fifty-Seven
Brooks
Seeing Daphne again hurt like a motherfucker.
I’d spent the past twenty-four hours debating whether to come.
Debating whether I could bring myself to see her again.
This is the last time.
I heard whispers behind us but didn’t glance at them. No one else mattered. I had limited time with Daphne, and I wasn’t going to waste a single second looking away from her.
Neither of us said a word as I guided her arm through mine.
Her scent drifted through the salty breeze as we walked barefoot through the sand toward the aisle.
I stole a peek at her. Her hair blew against her face, and she tucked it behind her ear. I noticed she’d trimmed her bangs.
I wanted to stop right there in the sand and pull her into me.
The altar kept getting closer, and I debated walking us straight into the ocean. We could let the tide take us away, and I wouldn’t have to live with the heartbreak another day longer.
The end of this aisle wasn’t the start of a wedding.
It was the end of me ever touching her again.
When we reached the happy couple, I didn’t immediately let go. Cedric and Adelina were closing the distance behind us, waiting for us to separate.
I wanted to hold Daphne for one more second.
Wanted to feel her against me, even if it was only our elbows linked.
I gave myself one, two, three seconds before releasing her.
She gasped, and our fingertips dragged together for one second before slipping apart.
Fuck, letting go hurts.
Cedric cleared his throat behind us, and we stepped away. Daphne went to Blair’s side, and I took mine beside Cristian.
The ceremony started, and I felt like a shitty friend.
The priest started talking, but I barely heard him. I watched Daphne instead. Even when Enzo and Blair exchanged their vows, I couldn’t look away from the tears sliding down her face.
God, this is fucking breaking me.
I should’ve stayed home, but Adelina had begged me to come. At least, that was the excuse I was going to use. I had come for my sister.
But really, I had come because I didn’t want our last memory together to be that dirty-ass motel room.
I tried to convince myself her tears were because people cried at weddings, but I knew better.
Knew Daphne better.
For a minute, I shut my eyes and pretended it was Daphne and me in their place. In another world, before all the deceit, it could’ve been.
When Enzo finally kissed the bride, I hated him a little for getting to do it.
My best friend got to keep his Fawn. Got to marry her. Got to love her.
I stared at the woman who had taught me to love.
Then taught me how easily someone could use that love to destroy you.
Being in Calira was nothing but a cesspool of memories with Daphne.
Like now. We were on the same yacht as the night of the party I’d crashed to see Daphne.
Everyone was relaxed, and light music played around us. There wasn’t a packed dance floor this time.
Just the Sons, Blair’s closest friends, and a few family members scattered around the yacht like a floating Devil’s Lair.
Enzo wasn’t a yacht kind of guy. He’d told us to keep watch everywhere because he hated having nothing but open air around them. Not enough protection, he’d said. But he’d done it for Blair, who was in awe of the ocean.
The girl had never even seen the ocean before coming to Calira because she’d been so sheltered.
“This is certainly an interesting place to run into you,” a woman said, stopping at my side. “Should I tell Daphne to put on a life jacket?”
I peered over at the smart-mouthed girl I knew from somewhere.
“Elodie.” She held out her hand. “Daphne’s Calira BFF.”
Ah yes. That clicked.
She’d been with her at the last yacht party.
I didn’t know how this girl had gotten an invite to the reception since the Marchettis were so strict, but I was sure Daphne had had something to do with it.
I grunted and didn’t take the woman’s hand.
Anyone who’s a BFF to Daphne isn’t a friend of mine.
I already had to deal with Blair being her Saint Vale bestie and my sister forgiving her.
“Now that’s rude.” Elodie dropped her hand and rested it on the railing.
“It’s rude for you to come and speak to me,” I replied, staring out into the sea.
“Okay, another rude point for you.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Not sure why Daphne likes you,” she said with a sigh. “I personally prefer nice men.”
“And I prefer women who don’t fucking help plot my father’s death.”
I said the words before I could stop them. Everyone within earshot knew the truth already anyway.
I stared down at the water churning against the hull.
“How many times do you need to be told that she didn’t plot his death?” she said, sounding almost annoyed with me.
“How do you know this shit?”
“I know everything about everything.” She smiled. “Some call me the ears of the castle.”
Since I wasn’t a fan of gossipers, I furrowed my brows and returned to my silence.
“I’ve also been the one comforting Daphne every day since she came back to Calira. And don’t worry, my lips are sealed.” She made a locking gesture over her mouth and pretended to throw an imaginary key into the water. “I have undying loyalty to the royal family.”
Still, I gave her nothing.
“Can you imagine if it were your mom you found bleeding out on the floor?” she kept pushing like a pest. “Or Adelina?”
“No. Nor do I want to.”
“You’d want to kill the entire world.”
“She could’ve told me.”
“And what?” she said with a disgruntled laugh. “What would you have done or said, Brooks?”
“She could’ve trusted me.”
“She could’ve trusted you? Told you she planned to help a group of government officials impeach your father, and you’d have been okay with it?”
Fuck. I hate when people make good points against me.
“She trusted politicians who used her instead of the people she claimed to care about. She could’ve told us for years but kept quiet.”
This time, she was silent for a second.
“She was lost, Brooks. Lost and hurt,” she finally said with brokenness in her voice. “You know Daphne’s heart. She’d have stopped it or told you if she knew it was some murder plot.”
“Then she should’ve done her research on who she was helping first.”
She turned to fully face me. “How much research did you do before killing Peter when you were angry?”
“How the fuck did you—”
“Daphne didn’t tell me that one,” she rushed out, needing to make that clear.
“Like I said, I’m a little bird in this castle.
” She shrugged flippantly. “I never liked Peter anyway. The asshole used to grab girls’ asses, and the PM would deal with sexual harassment claims on the regular. I’m glad Cory was the twin who lived.”
She looked over my shoulder, and I did the same to see her staring at Cory, deep in conversation with Nico, Cedric, and Enzo.
We’d started being more cordial toward each other, and he’d scored an invite to the wedding.
I still wouldn’t call the fucker my friend or invite him to mine, but I also no longer wanted to slit his throat. That was progress.
“She loves you and regrets what she did every single day.”
I kept the fucking obvious response to myself: people who loved you didn’t do that.
I knew Daphne regretted it.
I’d seen it in every text she’d sent. Heard it in every voicemail where she’d apologized through sobs.
I hadn’t answered a single one.
But I’d read and listened to them all.
“Trust me, I’d much rather Daphne be here in Calira and not in love with an asshole who refuses to answer her texts.” She sighed. “I’ve known Daphne for years. She never meant any harm.”
She tipped her head, as if saying her business was done, and turned around and left.
I looked across the yacht at Daphne.
She stood with Blair with her back against the railing, holding a sweater over her shoulders. Her hair blew with the wind and around her tiara.
All night I’d pretended I wasn’t staring.
But that was all I’d done.
And I felt like a fucking fool over it.
I’d spent most of the night hiding at this railing like the ocean had answers for me.
I looked away for only seconds before someone yelled, “Oh shit!”
Daphne grabbed for her sweater as it slipped over the railing.
“Daphne!” someone yelled.
She reached again, caught nothing but air, and fell over the edge.
I didn’t want to be Daphne’s Prince Charming.
So why the fuck was I already diving in after her?