She was lost and so was he.
Who knew that two broken hearts can connect to one.
Arabella's world has been rigged since the day she was born. Her fate had been decided for her much longer before she even had been conceived in the womb. So it came as...
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I don't know what's wrong.
I told Dominic I wanted to keep our relationship to ourselves. I didn't want to ruin what we had or cause more drama after everything that's happened over the past few months. Plus, I'm not sure how my family would react. He told me it was okay—agreed with me even. But now, I don't know what I was thinking.
Dominic's been weirdly awkward for the past few days. It's been a little over three weeks since we became official and something already feels off. He's just been so distant, and it's terrifying me.
Like last night. I wanted us to talk before bed, so I called him—and he didn't answer. A little later, he texted me saying he couldn't talk because he was with Vivian. But what he didn't know was that I knew his sister was at a party. The party I told her I couldn't go to because I wanted to spend time with Dominic—but he canceled on me at the last minute.
Still, I didn't say anything. I just asked how his day was.
His response?
One fucking word.
"Boring."
The moment I read it, I screamed into my pillow, ready to throw hands at anyone who looked at me sideways. I ended up telling myself he was just overwhelmed with work, trying to be understanding. I told him I was tired and heading to bed. But I didn't sleep. I couldn't. I spent the entire night tossing and turning, my mind running wild with every worst-case scenario imaginable. I cried until around 3 a.m., and then I must've blacked out from exhaustion. When I woke up, I had a "good morning" text from Dominic.
We started exchanging good morning and good night texts after we got together, but they used to sound sweeter—warmer. Now they just feel... like a routine. Like a chore. It's like he's treating this relationship like a situationship. But that's not what we are. We're a couple. We're together. I thought relationships were supposed to hurt less.
I've left him on read for the past few hours. He can go fuck himself in a ditch for all I care. I even gave my phone to one of the maids just to stop myself from texting him first.
Groaning, I throw a punch at the punching bag in front of me, hitting it over and over until I don't even notice Xander walking in. Suddenly, the bag swings back hard toward my face, and I barely dodge it in time.
"What the fuck?" I snap, looking around the bag and spotting Xander snickering like a five-year-old who just pulled a dumb prank. "You suck."
"That was pretty funny, to be honest." He shrugs with a grin. I kick him in the stomach, cutting off his laugh as he bends over in pain.
"You could've seriously hurt my face, you idiot. My perfectly good nose would be ruined, and I'd need plastic surgery."
"Stop being so dramatic. Nothing would've happened. Your ugly face could use plastic surgery anyway. That'd probably be the only way Dad would let you get it." He starts doing push-ups, throwing a cocky smirk my way.
