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.

a painting. Of

the canvas, painted in painful, brutal

There's another painting.

Me again.

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on my shoulders. I imagine that's what I look like when I remember the accident. When

spin on my heel, panic crashing

paintings. They're all me. Every fucking

slams against my ribs so hard I swear people around

different, because it's not just me,

and Alina. Facing each

alive. I step closer, my pulse a

scrawled at the bottom of

Alina Hanson.

breathe. I can't think.

panic inside me bubbles. I spin again, scanning the crowd like a desperate man. Standing still, in the middle of the crowd

she's breathtaking. Her black

going to kill me. And I'd die with a fucking grin on my

move toward her, pressing my hands deep into my pockets because if I don't, I'll drag her to me and kiss her senseless right

in front of everyone.

I'm inches from her, so close I can feel the heat of her skin. Her scent wraps around

breathes out a soft,

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 in them. I swallow and

"Hi."

smiles, her cheeks blooming pink as she looks down, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I know this is a lot," she says, waving her hand around.

voice comes out rougher than I want it to.

her lips together, her hands fiddling with the delicate strap of her purse. "A few days

wobbles, and

in Florence.

I can't. I close the small distance between us, tilting her chin up and crushing my mouth

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gentle. It's everything

piece. Every fucked-up fear that made me feel like maybe