Secrets of Us A Forbidden Love Romance (Alina)

Chapter 258

Chapter 258

Zald's POV

I stare at myself in the mirror, frowning as I tighten the tie around my neck for the

1 groan, frustrated, loosen it up and try all over again.

third time. It still doesn't look right.

Maybe it's not the tie. Maybe it's me. I huff out a breath, dragging my hands through my hair and messing it up again.

Noah had invited me to some fancy art function. Normally, I would told him to shove the invite up his ass. Not in those exact words, because I like the guys.

But who the fuck wants to stand around, looking at paintings from people you've never met before?

My heart clenches inside my chest. If Alina was here, she would want to go. She would stand and look at each painting as if it were the most beautiful thing in the world.

She would. It's the only reason I'm going. For her.

And she loves Noah, she likes him lot. So here I am. Strangling myself with a stupid tie and telling myself not to fuck it up, because in a month, I get her back.

If she finds out I bailed on Noah, she wouldn't like that. And fuck knows I'll do anything to stay in her good graces.

I glance over at the framed photo on my dresser. Alina. Laughing. It was one of the few pictures of her she let me keep on my phone. A few days of her gone, and I realized that looking at it on my phone wasn't enough. I wanted to be able to see it all the

time.

Queue the ten frames I have scattered around the house.

I smile, a deep ache curling through my chest. Fuck, I miss her. Some nights it feels like I'm going through withdrawal. I'm a man addicted to a woman he can't touch, can't hold, can't breathe without.

It's pathetic. I know that. Kyle, my therapist, says it's normal, attachment, loss, grief. All normal. Doesn't make it easier.

One month. I get her back in one month. They will be the longest thirty days of my life.

I finish getting dressed, grabbing my wallet and the invitation off the counter before heading out. The drive to the gallery is fast, headlights and asphalt melting together in front of me. I hand my keys to the valet, adjusting my jacket as I step inside.

The moment I walk in, my body locks up. My blood turns to ice. I blink. Hard.

No way

No fucking way.

painting. Of

down at me from the canvas, painted in painful, brutal detail. I move closer without meaning to, my feet dragging me

There's another painting.

Me again.

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ground, my head down, the weight of the world press down on my shoulders. I imagine that's what I look

spin on my heel, panic crashing

They're all

slams against my ribs so hard I

different, because it's not just me,

Alina. Facing

swirl together like theye alive. I step closer, my pulse a roar in my ears.

at the

Alina Hanson.

I can't think.

like a desperate man. Standing still, in the middle of the crowd like a dream made flesh. Wide, vulnerable eyes

into me with just a look. Every scar, every insecurity, ripped open with the softness of her gaze. Fuck, she's breathtaking. Her black dress clings to every curve, and when her

I'd die with

toward her, pressing my hands deep into my pockets because if I don't, I'll drag her to

in front of everyone.

her, so close I can feel the heat of her skin.

breathes out a soft,

lips move, and for a second, I forget how to speak. I dreamed about those lips every damn night. But dreams have, nothing on the real thing. I'm fucking lost

"Hi."

behind her ear. "I know this is a lot," she says, waving

comes out rougher than I want it to. "When did you get

together, her hands fiddling with the delicate strap of her purse. "A few days ago. I wanted to

and my

what I was doing. What I was working on and learning in Florence. 'I wanted to show you that I never stopped thinking about you. I never

distance

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soft. It's not gentle. It's everything I've been starving

to make up for every lonely night. Every broken piece. Every fucked-up fear that