Marrying Mr. Darcy (Love Manor #2) - Kate O'Keeffe Page 0,83

happy. There’s of us one outside on the sidewalk, with his hand on my arm, smiling at me.

I blink at the screen. Who would have taken photos of us together, let alone then sent them to a news outlet? I may have been a failed contestant on Dating Mr. Darcy, but I’m hardly paparazzi fodder. Who could possibly want to slander me like this?

“Who would have taken those? And more importantly, why? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Because you’re Elizabeth Bennet playing around with someone else behind the much loved Mr. Darcy’s back, that’s why,” she replies with a snide tone that gets my back right up.

“But I’m not,” I insist forcefully. “And I didn’t even win that show in the first place.”

Which feels super irrelevant right now, but I still feel the need to make the point.

“Look, I get it. The heart wants what the heart wants. I only wish you’d not hurt Sebby in the process.”

“Jilly, I’m going to say this one more time: I am not having an affair with Chris Hampshire!”

She harrumphs, clearly not convinced.

“I love Seb. He’s my world.”

“Well, it certainly looks like you’re having an affair.”

“I’m not,” I say firmly, sensing her conviction slipping.

She exhales loudly. “Emma, can I say something to you?”

“I should go call Seb. I need to clear this mess up with him.”

“You know how much I value our friendship and how much I love you. Truly, truly love you.”

“Sure,” I say dismissively.

“I’m not saying this lightly in the least.”

Frustrated, I reply, “Can you please just spit it out, Jilly?”

“There have been so many obstacles in your relationship with Sebby, haven’t there? There’s the negative press. Your little social faux pas, of which there were several. Need I remind you of the Rasmus toilet debacle? Not to mention Geraldine’s obvious contempt for you and the fact the production company didn’t want you on the show.”

“Are you trying to make me feel bad on top of accusing me of having an affair with Chris Hampshire? Because you’re definitely heading in that direction right now.”

“I’m saying this as a friend, Emma, and I really want you to hear it.”

I refrain from scoffing. Accusing me of cheating on Seb isn’t exactly top of the list of things friends do in my books.

“At what point do you decide enough is enough? At what point do you throw in the towel? The universe has been screaming at you, Emma, telling you that you and Seb are not meant to be.”

“What? No, it hasn’t.”

“Emma, please be honest with yourself. You must know it. Everything is pointing to the fact that you’re simply Not. Meant. To. Be. Together.” She enunciates each word in staccato to make her point.

“That’s crazy talk.”

“Poor Sebby is suffering, Emma. Please. Do what’s right for him. Let him go.”

I let out an exasperated—and frankly deeply insulted—puff of air, say a stern “Good-bye, Jilly,” and hang up.

What is she talking about? The universe hasn’t been screaming anything at me, let alone the idea that Seb and I aren’t meant to be. That’s ridiculous. We are meant to be, and right now, I need to get ahold of him to make sure he knows it.

Chapter 23

As soon as I’ve hung up from speaking with Jilly, I call Sebastian. It rings and rings until it goes to voicemail. When I hear his voice asking me to leave a message, a flood of emotion washes over me. Love, happiness, anxiety, dread.

I hang up and immediately tap out a message.

Call me! This is insane! I love you xoxo

I press send and scroll through my messages. I’ve had a couple missed calls from him as well as a message asking me to call him.

No kisses. No hugs.

Fear twists inside. What if he believes I’m having an affair with Chris Hampshire? He did walk in on us in the hallway at Johnathan’s house. Not that I consented to that kiss, of course. Sure, he believed me at the time, and he opened up and shared Chris’s involvement in his dad’s gambling habit. But what if he now thinks I lied to him? That I don’t love him? That I’ve been stringing him along as I play away?

He can’t. Surely he has faith in me?

I look back to the photos Jilly sent me. I can’t help myself. To someone who didn’t know, you would think we were together. We’re happily laughing at the café, looking every inch like a couple out for a coffee together. And the photo of his hand on my arm