Self

Chapter 82

Deep down, though, he was ticked off at Shane. They were friends at odds over a girl, and Shane had to be the one to make the first move. What was he trying to prove?

Shane just shrugged. “Don’t bother lecturing me. You’ll never know unless you try.”

Yara exited the café and wandered through the mall, snagging a chic new scarf and a plush cashmere coat.

Next, she hit the grocery store. By the time she emerged, night had cloaked the city.

With winter nights closing in early, she hustled home.

When she reached her building, the world was dark.

Out of nowhere, a shadow lunged from a dark alley.

Her first thought was a vagrant, and a shiver raced up her spine, goosebumps -erupting.

However, it was Yale, and her fear melted away, only to be replaced by concern as she took in his boozy stench and wobbly stance.

Yale had been out in the cold long enough for his nose to turn red.

Liquid courage fuelled him, and he clutched at Yara’s hand.

“Yara…”

“Let go,” she said, pulling away. His touch had become unbearable.

“I won’t, not unless you come back to me. Please?”

She could not fathom his drunken rant. “You’re wasted.”

“Yara… I mean it…”

He was the second guy today to insist he meant it.

Yale said, “You once asked me what coming back would mean. You thought you would be the third person in my relationship. Listen, I’ve talked to Xandra about splitting up.

“If you come back, I’ll act like nothing ever happened between you and Shane. I was out of line yesterday. I’m sorry. You can yell at me, slap me, whatever you need…”

As the night grew darker, the streets emptied. The forecast had warned it was the chilliest day of the winter, urging everyone to bundle up.

Yara had not noticed the cold before, but a hiver ran down her spine, and her breath

turned to mist.

I’m sorry,” she murmured, her gaze dropping, eyelashes fluttering. “We can’t go back

Once so stubbom and unyielding, the man finally decided to stoop down to plead for her forgiveness. It was too late, though. She was over it.

“You know alcohol messes with your stomach. Maybe lay off it for a bit.”

Then, she slipped her hand away and walked off.

Lay off it…

She still cared

A glimmer of hope lit up Yale’s eyes. She was still looking out for him, just like in old times. Maybe he still had a shot?

With that thought, he hurried after her, caught her hand, and pulled her close. “Yara, you still care, don’t you? Let’s give it another hot, okay?”

He leaned in for a kiss, desperate.

Yara’s eyes widened, and she shoved him back, wiping her mouth with disgust.” Don’t touch me!”

Yale froze, her scornful push and disgusted glare cutting him deep, bleeding him out. The alcohol in his veins turned ice–cold.

Yara said, “You know, I’ve known for a while. All those years we were together, you weren’t just with me.

“You thought you were slick, but love makes a woman observant. Did you think those sloppy traces you left behind were invisible?

She had first caught on when he came back from a trip, and she found a tiny piece of a condom wrapper in his suitcase, not even the size of a fingernail and not their usual brand.

She instantly knew.