Billionaire Stepbrother: Spring(10)

As we arrived back at the hotel I gave the driver another look to say that I would be right back. Me being me, I’d left without any means of paying him.

“Ah! Mademoiselle Chamberlin. Good, you have returned.” The receptionist who had spoken to me earlier came around from the high mahogany desk. “You forgot your letter,” he said waving it up high, making sure this time I wouldn’t leave without it.

I groaned. What could Lex possibly have to say that I’d want to read now? Fury and sadness twisted within my belly. The receptionist wasn’t going to give up this time and handed it to me. His duty was done.

He was about to return to his post when I asked, “Sorry, would it be possible for someone to pay for my taxi outside, and for the amount to be billed to my room?”

For a second his eye twitched, but he quickly regained his composure. “But, of course, Mademoiselle. It would be my great pleasure.”

I felt a twang of guilt for asking, but what else was I supposed to do? I had no money to pay for things. Lex had literally left me high and dry. Thank the heavens the room was being taken care of.

“Merci,” I replied weakly and dashed back up to the suite before I died of shame.

“He’s what?” Phoebe exclaimed after I recounted what had happened.

“Poof, gone. Apparently flew out of the country this morning, no idea where,” I replied.

“So, are we stranded? Have you tried calling him?”

My eyes widened and I almost slapped myself for not thinking of it sooner. Phoebe clapped a hand over her mouth as a loud guffaw escaped. I fixed her with a stern look, and she soon pasted a neutral mask upon her face.

I dug my phone out, called his number and waited. The rings seemed to go on forever, and I let out the breath I’d been holding. Then I heard his voice, and instinctively I smiled. But it was just his answering message.

Fuck.

I was becoming irritated. What was he trying to tell me something by leaving me without saying goodbye? Were we over? For someone who had proposed only a couple of months ago, this wasn’t looking good. Maybe I shouldn’t have kept him waiting…

“Lex, call me as soon as you get this,” I said and hung up.

I belly–flopped onto the bed and bellowed into the covers.

“What’s that?” Phoebe asked.

I mumbled an incoherent reply and soon felt a stabbing pain shoot through my ribs as Phoebe poked me hard.

“Ow! That hurt.” I flipped over onto my back.

“It was supposed to. What’s in there? It’s got your name on it,” she said and pointed to large white envelope.

“The receptionist downstairs gave it to me. Said it was from Lex.”

“And you haven’t opened it, why not?”

“I think my track record when opening letters speaks for itself.”

She rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you curious?”

“Yeah, but it’s probably a Dear John letter or Dear Jane letter, in my case. He’s probably so fed up with me and my shit that he wants nothing more to do with me. Why else would he leave the sodding country without even saying goodbye? Giving me space, my arse!”

I choked back a rising sob; I hadn’t realised how I’d been feeling before saying it out loud.

What if he has left me? What will I do?



My heart throbbed painfully at the thought; I couldn’t imagine a life without him now.

Phoebe sat beside me and encouraged me to read the letter.

“You can’t not read it. You’ll always regret it if you throw it away. But, if that’s what you want to do, then I’ll support your decision, and we’ll never have to see or talk about him again.”

I nodded, turned the envelope over in my hands and ripped it open.

I read the letter twice as tears streaked down my cheeks.

“Shit. Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Phoebe said as she pulled me into a hug, crumpling the letter in the process.

I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand and shook my head trying to make sense of what I’d just read.

“I can’t believe it. He hasn’t really broken up with you, has he? That shit!” Phoebe gritted her teeth and looked as if she were about to go into full–on kicking ass and taking names mode.

“It’s OK,” I sniffled. “Here, look,” I said and passed over the letter.

Phoebe quickly scanned it and her face filled with concentration but as her eyes traced down the page, reading rapidly from left to right, her features softened.

***

My dear, darling Aimee,



I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am for not revealing the truth about your mother sooner, and I believe I will regret that decision for the rest of my life.



Please forgive my actions of last night. I had no right to get upset with you, and I’ve laid awake in an empty bed because of it.