My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 96

Chapter 96: Chapter 96 DROP THE ACT

SERAPHINA’S POV

For a moment, the floor tilted underneath me, and coupled with the sour and heavy remnants of the conversation with my mother clinging to me, I thought I was going to be sick all over the spotless linoleum floor.

I closed my eyes, took two long, calming breaths, and opened them—to the same nauseating sight.

Celeste and Kieran—entwined like lovers who hadn’t seen each other in years, her hands hooked behind his neck, his arms anchored firmly around her waist.

My fingers curled into fists, nails biting crescents into the flesh of my palm.

The thing is... It wasn’t even the fact that Kieran was kissing Celeste; it was the fucking kiss itself.

The way he gripped her and pressed her into him, the expert, hungry way his lips glided over hers.

The way it made me think of all the other times Kieran had kissed me, and I felt so absolutely, completely, fucking stupid.

My stomach roiled again, and it felt like I was back on that stupid yacht battling seasickness, except this time the idea of throwing myself overboard to the mercy of the sharks felt much more palatable than staying on the ship.

But amidst the gut-wrenching feeling of betrayal I didn’t want to examine too closely, came something like...relief.

Because I’d been right—Kieran was exactly who I thought he was.

His attentiveness and care on the island were a charade. His kisses and touches were farces.

If I’d been a lesser woman, if I didn’t have a decade of cold indifference as reference, I might have been fooled into thinking he really cared about me, that he truly wanted me.

But in the end, the truth would always prevail—Kieran would always choose Celeste.

I scoffed. In a way, that realization was oddly liberating. I never had to bother about the confusing storm in my head about Kieran, because ultimately, he had never been mine, and he would never be—it was that simple.

The sound I made must have been louder than I intended, because at that moment, Kieran’s eyes fluttered open—then blew wide as his gaze caught mine over Celeste’s shoulders.

He shoved Celeste back so abruptly she stumbled, lips still parted, cheeks flushed. I might have laughed at the comical shock on her face if I wasn’t too busy trying to keep the coffee and bagel I’d had on the plane down.

“Sera—” Kieran’s voice cracked, caught somewhere between surprise and alarm. Something like guilt flittered in his eyes.

His gaze swept over me in an instant, lingering on my eyes. “You’re crying.”

Was I? I held my hand up to the corners of my eyes and felt the moisture there. Interesting. Had that happened in my mother’s room or after I stepped out?

“What happened?” Kieran pressed. “Did Margaret—is it serious?”

Concern. His tone dripped with it, as though he was still the Kieran who fussed over me when I was seasick and sucked snake venom out of my injury and carried me up the stairs and cooked for me and—

A bitter laugh clawed its way out of my throat before I could stop it. I blinked back what felt like another wave of hot tears, refusing to examine the dull ache pounding against my ribcage.

“Sera—”

I jerked away from his touch so violently I almost lost my footing—but the memory of what had happened the last time I tripped around Kieran burned so brightly in my mind, my body instinctively righted itself.

“Why don’t you ask Celeste?” I snapped, tearing my gaze to my sister, who leaned against the wall, her arms crossed, watching the exchange with glacial blue eyes.

“Celeste,” I hissed, my voice as sharp as glass, “is it serious? Did Mom—who looked surprised as fuck to see me in her hospital room—really ask for me?”

Celeste’s face tightened, but she rolled her eyes, dismissive and theatrical. “Are you serious right now, Sera?”

“Excuse me?”

“I called you because I figured you’d be worried, but you’re mad because Mom’s fine?”

I blinked, scoffing incredulously. “I’m not mad because Mom’s fine—I’m glad she’s fine. I’m mad because you—”

“I guess it’s not that hard to understand, though.” She shrugged.

My eyes narrowed. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Her lips curled into that saccharine smile that had always hidden poison. “You resent everyone. You always have. And after ruining everything ten years ago, it must gut you to see everyone happy and healthy, right? You just can’t stand it that Mom is healthy and that I’m happy with the man who was mine all along. Your selfish, callous heart can’t—”

Muscle. Memory.

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