Page 97 of Don't Date Your Nemesis

“I am asking you to marry me.”

“Are you asking or ordering, Sultan?”

“I am asking, Princess.” I smiled at her.

“For now.”

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EPILOGUE

Liam

The water was freezing cold at five in the morning.

I dove in anyway, welcoming the shock and the way it made my lungs seize and my skin prickle. Maybe if I was cold enough, numb enough, I wouldn’t feel the rest of it.

I started my first set of butterfly, the stroke that had won me gold and the one that had defined my entire life. My arms cut through the water efficiently.

My time flashed on the board when I touched the wall. Fifty-five point two seconds.

Dammnit.

It should have been fifty-three point eight seconds.

Coach Ricardo wasn’t there, but I could feel his disappointment anyway. I could imagine the way his jaw would tighten, the subtle shake of his head, and he would say,

‘This isn’t how elite athletes perform, James. What the hell is wrong with you?’

Everything. Everything’s wrong with me.

I pushed off the wall harder, trying to out-swim the thoughts. But they followed me down, relentless.

Deepika.

The first time I had seen her after years was at Ethan and Kiara’s engagement party. She had walked in wearing that golden dress, and I had forgotten how to breathe. She was beautiful, of course, but she had looked at me with such pure hatred that I felt it like a physical blow.

Eighteen years of bad history in a single glance.

I had thought we were enemies and thought we would always be enemies.

But I had been so fucking wrong.

My stroke faltered as water rushed into my mouth. It was chlorinated and bitter. I surfaced, coughing and gripping the lane rope.

The last time I had seen her was days ago, early in the morning. She was getting ready for her meeting, humming while she dried her hair. I had watched from the doorway, mesmerized by something so simple. Deepika in my bathroom, using my towel, and completely at home in my space.

Our space.

She caught me staring and smiled. “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes and threw the towel at me. “Sap.”

I had kissed her long and slow, tasting the mint toothpaste and coffee that she’d already had. She had melted into me, hands fisting in my shirt, and I had thought, ‘This. This is what happiness feels like.’

But three hours later, she was gone.