Part 3The Kiss That Hurt

Married?

I stood there, stunned.

Had I heard him correctly?

Who was he marrying?

He'd never mentioned anyone.

"You're... getting married?"

My voice sounded so strained I barely recognized it.

"Yeah." His tone was casual. "Next month. Emily Carter."

Emily Carter.

I knew who she was.

She came from a wealthy family with connections to ours. Our father had introduced them.

How long had they even known each other?

"So," he said, finally turning to face me, "get rid of all that junk you've been putting in your body. I don't want you embarrassing us at the wedding."

Junk.

That was what he thought of the things I used to cope.

Of the feelings I couldn't put into words.

Of my desperate attachment to him.

I watched him close the office door.

All the strength seemed to drain out of me.

The tongue stud rubbed against the tender wound, sending tiny jolts of pain through my mouth.

But this time, there was no pleasure.

Only pain.

So this was how he chose to punish me.

Not by gripping my tongue and forcing me to obey.

But by casually telling me he was going to start a family with someone else.

And what about me?

His younger brother, the one who wasn't even related to him by blood.

The burden he'd taken in all those years ago.

Where was I supposed to go?