Page 111 of Deacon

She made me stew under her narrowed-eyed scrutiny for a moment, making sure I understood.

‘As for Massimo, we’ve all stumbled into mistakes,’ she continued, shrugging. ‘Some relationships aren’t meant to be. Take your time, but you will let him go. Perhaps then you’ll be open to what’s true, good, and righteous for your future.’

I leaned forward and kissed her warm cheek.

‘Always with the truth, Yumi. I love you for it. Merci and asante.’

Yumi shrugged, a brilliant smile breaking across her face.

‘I do what I can, child. Now let’s move. We have sweet mandazi to fry for dessert.’

A few days into the Vega clan’s time in Spain, I asked Deacon if I should return to Nashville, keen not to burden him or intrude further on his family time.

The glare he threw my way silenced me.

‘Woman,’ he growled, as if offended by the question. ‘You’re a Vega whether you like it or not. You’re staying up until we all leave. Besides, I’m not ready to deal with a devastated Raff if you head out early.’

‘Still so freakin’ bossy.’

‘Better believe it,’ he muttered.

So stay I did.

Our final week together in Spain on my unexpected forced holiday unfolded as a beautiful contradiction, one of the happiest moments of my life, despite the collapse of my marriage.

The gossip blogs and Reddit forums were still spiraling over Max’s affair, pointing out that I was MIA.

The paparazzi had not yet managed to pin down my location, and the speculation around my radio silence was out of control.

People on TikTok and Reddit were demanding a statement, expecting me to air out my life for their entertainment.

I gave zero fucks about what those randoms wanted.

I had never relied on social media validation, and my income sure as hell didn’t depend on clicks, so I muted the noise and moved on.

Instead, I emailed Sue to request a total freeze on any upcoming photography assignments.

I had more than enough money to live on, and my investments afforded me a handsome monthly revenue.

I wanted to operate under the radar until I healed, body, mind, and spirit, before facing the world.

I also instructed my real estate agent to list my London townhouse.

I purchased the house using money from modeling gigs and disciplined saving, but I’d only lived in it to stay close to Massimo.

Since we were no longer us, I figured it was best to let it go and maybe make a killing on the sale.

Its market value had skyrocketed since I bought it, and I wanted to put the cash elsewhere.

On our final afternoon in Mijas, Christine, Divina, Raff, and I hijacked the kitchen to create a surprise.

It was Deacon’s thirty-seventh birthday.

Davon, Simon, and Yumi kept him occupied outside by the pool while the rest of us baked his favorite dessert: a rich chocolate Black Forest cake loaded with three times the standard amount of Kirsch-soaked cherries.

We had a blast flouring the counters, sneaking spoonfuls of batter, and laughing as Christine whipped up a tub of fresh ice cream from scratch.

When Deacon headed into the kitchen for a beer, Raff sprang into action.