Chapter 22
Bastien finally surfaced almost three weeks later.[]
Someone spotted him looking like a complete wreck, staring into the river in what looked disturbingly like a pre–suicide contemplation. Anastasia rushed there immediately.
By the time she made it back to his penthouse, he’d somehow beaten her there.[]
Anastasia launched herself at him, mascara running down her face as she collapsed against his chest.[]
“My God, Bastien, I’ve been calling you for weeks! What the hell happened to you?“[]
“Needed some time,” he finally muttered.[]
“Do you have any idea how worried sick I’ve been?” []
Bastien felt absolutely nothing. All he could see was that jagged surgical scar cutting across Ophelia’s scalp. If she hadn’t made it back to London when she did… Christ, she could have died on some operating table while he was busy playing hero for someone else.]
Ophelia had loved him with everything she had once…]
She’d only walked away because Anastasia had forced her hand.[]
“We should get married.“]]
The words dropped into the silent apartment like stones. Anastasia froze mid–sob,clutching him.]
“Yes! Oh my God, yes!“]]
She threw herself into wedding planning with manic energy.
She’d pictured Bastien right there with her. Instead, he practically moved into his office, stumbling home in the small hours only to collapse fully clothed onto his bed.
Every night she prepared meals, but he’d walk right past them without a glance.]
Despite the six–figure diamond on her finger, they lived like roommates.[]
Though they had a date circled on the calendar, Anastasia couldn’t shake the creeping dread that Bastien was slipping away with each passing day.
With: Christmas approaching, Anastasia carefully selected scarves for his family, certain that as his fiancée, she’d finally be welcomed into the Moreau family holiday celebrations.
But by Christmas Eve, he still hadn’t mentioned a word about family plans.[]
“Are you heading to Moreau villa for the holidays?” she finally asked directly.[]
Bastien gave a distracted nod.He didn’t even have the courtesy to ask if she had plans for the holiday.
After an excruciating silence, she pressed her lips together and asked, “Have you told your parents about the engagement?“]
Bastien looked up at her with eyes so vacant they seemed to belong to someone else, displaying total indifference toward their supposed future together.
“Why would I need to bring that up?”]
Anastasia just stared at him, completely blindsided.]
“Seriously, what the fuck is going on with you, Bastien?“]
“You’ve been acting like a complete stranger since you got back from London.”
He barely acknowledged her. “How exactly?”
She frowned.
“Is it something at work? Some deal fell through? You can actually talk to me about this stuff, you know.”
Anastasia tried for supportive and understanding. Bastien’s mouth twisted into something that resembled a bitter smile.[]
“No. I just realized I’ve basically destroyed every meaningful relationship I’ve ever had.“[]
Anastasia assumed he was referencing their rocky past. She leaned against him gently and whispered, “All that other drama is in the rearview mirror now.“]
Bastien said nothing, tolerating her touch like someone enduring a medical exam.]
At exactly midnight on Christmas Eve, while the ball was dropping in Times Square and champagne corks were popping across the country. Bastien carefully calculated the time difference and sent Ophelia a text.[]
“Happy Christmas, Ophelia.“]
