Catherine's POV
I was walking through the gardens but it felt like I was walking through an oven. My skin was prickling, and my vision blurring at the edges as the image of Julian's lips pressed against Lucy's kept on appearing in my mind.
How could he do that? Did he not for once think about how it would make me feel?
I could still hear everyone cheering them from the ballroom; a physical blow to my stomach.
"I think we can sit here," Dante's low but steady voice pulled me back to my reality.
He didn't ask me anything; he simply guided me toward a secluded stone alcove at the garden center.
I leaned against the cold stone, my chest heaving. I was trying to find my breath, trying to pull myself back together before I completely fell apart.
