Forbidden by Liliana Carlisle

 

CHAPTER 1

AMELIA

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

I’m not surprised this is happening, but I still raise my eyebrows at the overused cliché. I refuse to meet Brian’s eyes as I stab at my salad viciously, taking out my frustration on my lunch.

It will be our last meal together. I knew this was coming, but I can’t ignore the feeling of dread in my stomach.

“Yes, it is,” I say softly, finally looking up from my plate. His dark green eyes are pained, but more from guilt than heartache.

He shifts uncomfortably, clearing his throat. “Well, no, it’s just—”

As if on cue, my head pounds, a familiar reminder of why I’m being dumped once again. “You can just say it, Brian,” I sigh. “It’s because you can’t handle this.” I wave my hand around my face, gesturing to my forehead. “You’re not the first one to say it.”

It’s true. And he probably won’t be the last, either.

He frowns. “Damn it, Amelia, you don’t have to put it like that—”

“But that’s what you’re saying, isn’t it?” I quip. “You can’t handle when I get sick. I’ve weighed you down for the last year.”

His eyes darken as he scowls. “I just think that maybe you should see another doctor—”

There’s a stabbing in the back of my eyes and I squint them shut. “You know I’ve seen enough doctors, and it’s all the same,” I grit out. The pounding in my head worsens as a fog clouds my senses. Soon, the migraine will be so intense that I won’t be able to talk.

He tries to speak again, but I cut him off. “Just end it, Brian,” I mutter.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he says after a moment. “I’m sorry.”

I open my eyes and take in his appearance for the last time. He’s a clean-shaven pretty boy with reddish brown hair and kind emerald eyes, dressed in slacks and a button-up shirt.

He’s kind, sweet, and charming.

But simple.

My complications messed up his world, and no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t cope.

He lays cash on the table and gives me a sad smile. “I better get going.” He stands up, looks at me mournfully, then turns and walks away. I fight the tears of embarrassment. Crying will only make the headache worse.

I’m numb as I wait for the ride I ordered on my phone, the pounding in my head secondary to the ice in my heart.