Page 11 of Bitter Lies

Three weeks and not a word from Aiden. Not even a text. I shouldn’t care, but I do. After his text to Jen, I was sure he’d contact me. Anticipated it. Been hopeful… more than that, actually.

He has my number. I made sure of it—left it on his steering wheel with a sticky note from my purse.

The man talks a big game, but clearly that’s all it is. A shame. I was so looking forward to getting sweaty with him. Seeing if he could give me an orgasm or two would’ve been the perfect way to blow off steam.

His loss.

I’ll find a man who can get past having a gun pressed to the back of his head. Aiden may have put off alpha vibes. Obviously he’s a beta scaredy-cat.

Except, dammit… I know that’s not true.

He’s a rare find. I loved how he used the threat of spanking me to get me to follow his orders. No one’s ever corrected me like that. Not even as a child. The way my body reacted. The anticipation of him being in control… his hand on my arse. It’s stayed with me longer than it should have.

Just thinking about it makes me wet. And I hate that.

I’m far from innocent.

I lost my virginity when I was nineteen. It was a brief fling, lasting only a few weeks. During medical school, I had a few lovers—a welcome distraction from the stress. My last fling was right before entering my foundation years, during the break between. A few of us took a trip to the south of France. A friend who turned into more. It was fun, but over quickly once we returned. His placement was in London, and I stayed in Oxford. No free time to manage a relationship, not that I wanted one with him.

Maintaining relationships is tough when your career dominates your schedule, and free time is scarce. Once I finish my training and settle in, maybe then I’ll have time. Until then, I’m content living my life and having some fun along the way.

Aiden could’ve been my older man fling—everyone has one, right?

According to Jen, he turned thirty-five last month. The age difference isn’t unlike my sister Gabriela and Gino. She was younger than I am now when things between them started.

Being with a man ten years my senior never appealed to me… until Aiden. Now it all makes sense.

There’s something about men who put off alpha vibes. Gino had it. Aiden does too.

While Gino struggled with his feelings for my sister, saying he was too old for her, I doubt that’s what Aiden’s doing. He’s way too blunt. He would’ve just straight up said it if it was an issue. Instead, he kissed me and slapped my arse like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Then he ghosted me.

I refuse to waste my energy on a man who can’t respect my time. My downtime is valuable. His loss—my gain. Time to move on.

I have a rare three-day respite, and I intend to make the most of it. After visiting my grandparents, I’ll spend an evening out with a few friends who live in London. They’ve bugged me for months to get together. Perfect way to forget about the last three weeks and let loose.

The doorman at my grandparents’ building nods hello as he holds the door for me. I’m overdue for a visit. We’ve talked on the phone, but that’s not the same as seeing them in person. As their last living heir, I know my visits are valued. My grandparents can be a little suffocating, but I try not to hold that against them. They’ve lost two children. My mother took her life after poisoning my father, King Ramon. Then, a couple of years later, my uncle was murdered when he fell into the wrong crowd. They smother me out of fear that I’ll be taken from them without warning.

“Hello.” Entering the penthouse, my voice bounces off the walls of the narrow hallway. “Anyone home?”

Rounding the corner, my grandmother gasps when she sees me. “You came! Oh my, I can’t believe you came.”

“I told you I was coming today.” I wrap her slight frame in my arms and try not to squeeze too hard. “Why would you think I’d not follow through? Don’t I always come when I say I will?”

“I suppose, but I’ve missed you.” She takes hold of my arm, drawing me back, her eyes studying me carefully. “Oh, Sofia, you look so beautiful.”

It pains me when she calls me Sofia, but her mind is fading, and sometimes she forgets. “Isabel, grandmother. I’m Isabel.”

She tries to play it off, but I can see her confusion. Alzheimer’s sucks.

“Yes, Isabel, of course you are. You remind me so much of my Sofia, I sometimes forget. She was a beautiful woman, just like you. I miss her every day.” Reaching up, she pats my cheek. “Tea? We’ll have tea and catch up. Tell me everything about your life in Oxford. Are they treating you well?” Her hand, small and warm in mine, slips into the crook of my arm.

“I’m muddling through.” I lead us into the parlor, where I know our tea will be waiting. “I’m more than ready for this rotation to be over so I can get away from Dr. Grieves. He hates me.”

“How could anyone hate you?” She frowns. “He must be a twat.”

Whenever my grandmother says things like that, I can’t help but snicker. She’s usually so prim and proper, rarely using words like twat.