Law #1: Never Bet on Love: A Sweet Billionaire Love Story (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (the beginning after the end novel read .TXT) 📗

I heard them speak about him in the kitchen while I sobbed on the sofa. Juan couldn’t understand why Nathan was banned from our life for good. The simple, “Eva is mad at him because he lied,” didn’t satisfy his rebellious little mind. He even challenged our grandmother by saying that everybody lies once in a while, but if one regrets it, then we have to forgive them. I’m not sure who told my brother that Nathan regretted what he did. Maybe Abuelita?

It doesn’t matter, though. Juan can’t understand yet that there are things that can’t be undone just because you say sorry. Things like pretending to be someone you are not. Or being interested in someone only to win a miserable bet with your family.

No, these things are unforgivable.

Laia takes my hand and drags me into our living room. “Look, I’ve put together a list of books I think you should read while you’re gone.”

My eyes flick to the table, and I don’t even need to read the titles to know that each of the reads my cousin selected must be either a romance or some kind of hot chicken soup for the broken hearted. The bright, shimmery colors of the covers speak for themselves.

“I don’t want to read anything,” I grumble.

“Ah, Eva.” Laia waves me off. “I’m here because you obviously don’t know what you want or need right now, okay? Just come over here and check them out please.” She takes me by my shoulders and pushes me down on our age-old plush sofa.

I grit my teeth and take the pink book titled, Rekindle Your Soul, into my hands.

I mustn’t blame Abuelita for detonating the “Laia saves Eva” bomb. I mustn’t.

My poor grandmother did everything that she thought would help me heal. But in the end, likely in her utter desperation after she found me fabricating a hand-written copy of ‘La Mujer Sin Alma,’ Abuelita decided to call in the heavy artillery.

This morning, the day of Alejandro’s release, Laia arrived. My cousin started out her rescue mission by, literally and metaphorically, kicking my butt till she managed to haul me into the shower. After I was squeaky clean, she helped me comb my hair knot-free, which I didn’t think would be possible after keeping it in a messy bun—even when I slept—for days. But Laia’s tenacity won. And not just on my dark tresses.

After getting me into a socially presentable shape again, she picked out some clothes, other than my homebody outfit, and bullied me into fetching Ale from Litchfield. She used such sophisticated emotional triggers to reach her goal that even Sigmund Freud would have envied her. I didn’t agree with her method while it happened, but now, hearing Ale’s jingling laugh as he tickle-fights Juan, I’m happy my cousin did what she did. I would’ve hated myself for missing out on my brother’s first hug after he got back his freedom.

I tentatively open the book. Perhaps Laia could be right about this, too. I doubt that any written word, even the most sacred and wise ones, could lead me to peace and acceptance about having trusted a man again who clearly didn’t love me.

But he did say he loved you.

Huh, the tiny troublemaker in my head is back. It kept quiet for quite some time now, probably mortified for having been the instigator of my tragedy. Maybe my romantic cousin’s arrival gave it the courage to return? I need to suppress it as quickly as possible, before it starts nestling in for good.

Nathan might have said he loved me, but those were just words. They have the same weight as the ones he said to his mother about me, expressing the exact opposite. So, I can’t hold onto a straw of hope like that. And I won’t. Instead, I will…

I read the first paragraph of the book.

“To start a new life, you need to cut the chains with the old.”

Yes, that’s what I’m going to do. I’m starting a clean slate as of now. I will not only not speak about Nathan. But, better, I won’t even think of him.

A shrill bell startles us all.

Laia jumps up and bolts to the door.

“Are you waiting for a visitor, Evita?” Abuelita’s voice is so hopeful that my chest squeezes.

“No, I’m not. It’s probably just the post,” I murmur.

I tear away my glance from my grandmother’s eager face. It’s clear whom she wants to see standing outside our door. It pains her to see me heartbroken, and she still wishes I would reconsider hearing Nathan out. Never mind that he didn’t even try to contact me for the past week.

Even after telling Abuelita about the bet, she couldn’t abandon the idea that Murphy had a providential vision when he set up his brother. And that it wasn’t meant to hurt me, thus Nathan isn’t a bad guy. She even tried to bring Laia on her team about this, but luckily my cousin was on my side this time. “Nathan is a liar till the contrary is proven,” she replied to my grandmother.

Oh, ginger snaps, I just thought about Nathan again.

Before I can scold myself, Laia is back carrying a large bouquet in her arm.

Abuelita claps her hands, her mouth drifting to her ears. “Wasn’t I right? This is for Eva, I’m sure. Though I would have chosen roses or carnations. Daffodils are more for a new house or a job. I’ll need to teach Nath—”

“These aren’t from Nathan,” Laia exclaims. She fishes out the envelope from the buds and holds it up. “They are for Alejandro.”

“Alejandro?” Abuelita squeaks.

My brother, attracted by his name, shuffles to us from the kitchen. He carries a monkey-like hanging Espie on one shoulder and a wiggling-panda Juan on the other. Poor Ale pants and can hardly stand straight from their collective weights.

“Espie, Juan, leave Ale alone. He needs to check out his gift,” I chide.

“What gift? From whom? Espie is the first to inquire, but she is