Chapter Forty Two

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The largest pang of relief flooded through me upon seeing the man of my very many dreams.

A wild guess of shock filled his gaze, along with everyone else's. He wasn't supposed to be back yet, arriving at his parent's home at the same time we were here was the least expected thing to catch.

He seems to notice me but not everyone else; when he sees me, his lips quirk slightly and his duffle bag, which was hanging tightly in his hand, drops with a thud, bringing him one step closer to me.

I feel my heart rate increase for the better, for the first time in a while.

Our eyes stay connected, a hundred million things running through our minds.

His arms were the first thing I felt, wrapping around me like a comforting blanket.

Whatever pain I probed before vanishes for this moment. I stay in his arms, melting and folding into his embrace. My own arms wrap around his neck, holding him to my body like he was the shield from the guns being pointed at me.

"Hey, baby." He speaks low enough into my ear so that only I could hear. I find myself inhaling his scent—strictly of cinnamon and mint, my absolute favourite.

I don't have it in me to reply back, being on the verge of a mental breakdown, I tighten my hold on him even more in response to his welcoming words.

When he tries to pull back I was more than reluctant about us staying in this position forever, but I allowed him to—remembering that we weren't alone in this room. Our intimate moment was disrupted by the invisible guns being held at my head.

But still, he pays no mind to the others, merely only focusing on me.

"Are you okay?" He seems to look concerned, noticing my definitely paler face and ghost-like appearance. I felt like a ghost—if anything, I wanted to be a ghost at this point. Not in a sense of wanting my life to end kind of way, more like the invisibility part of it. Because maybe then I wouldn't be in the situation I was in.

"She's feeling sick, they were just heading home, son." Isabella Ceraso breaks our eye contact, Silver's eyes turn blank as anything staring down at the woman.

He says nothing, blinking once and then looking down at me. A swirl of emotion takes over his features, his thumb stroking my cheek.

"Call me later?" He doesn't push for me to stay, and he doesn't make it difficult to leave even though it was already hard enough.

"Promise," I whisper out, barely.

With a kiss on my forehead, he steps aside and allows us to leave.

My parents were silent behind me, helping me into the car in silence and racing out of the Ceraso home in silence.

And then like a train wreck, questions were fired.

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