I turn on Winston before he even steps into my apartment. “I can’t believe you did that.”

As soon as Sonia left my apartment, I’d called his office. He was in a meeting, but I insisted it was urgent. Over the phone, I didn’t tell him what I wanted to talk to him about, only asking him to come to my place as soon as he left work.

The wait for him to arrive was torture and I spent it cleaning my apartment furiously, scrubbing floors and cleaning the windows to occupy myself and keep from going crazy with fury.

Now here he is, smiling at me as though he did nothing wrong. “I don’t understand what you mean.” He leans against the doorframe. “Can I come in so you can tell me?”

Still fuming, I step aside. He steps into my apartment, looking as out of place as usual.

As soon as the door closes I fold my arms in front of my chest. “Are you serious now?”

“I clearly did something wrong and you’re not telling me what it is.” He grins. “Did you get my surprise?”

“That’s what this is about.” I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, trying to calm myself, but it doesn’t work. I open them again. “When we talked in Misty Cove, I asked you to not make any more decisions without consulting me. You knew I was feeling a little overwhelmed with everything. And what do you do?” I throw my hands in the air and let them drop at my sides. “You went out and bought a wedding dress. We don’t even know when we’ll get married.”

“I know,” he says casually. “Angelia already reserved the date on my calendar. I was going to tell you about it as soon as we saw each other.”

“This just keeps getting better.” I place a hand on my forehead, ignoring the headache nagging the back of my skull. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you.” I give a sarcastic laugh. “So tell me, Winston. When should I show up at my own wedding?”

“We’ll be getting married in one month, on July 30. If you’d come to New York earlier, you would’ve known that. Instead you chose to stay away. While you were gone, I did what had to be done.”

“So you started planning our wedding without me?”

“I didn’t feel like I had a choice.” I can see his jaw tensing up. He clearly doesn’t believe he did anything wrong and that drives me up the wall.

He lowers himself onto the couch and stretches out his legs. “I did you a favor. When you told me you were overwhelmed, I wanted to help. The wedding planner is amazing and everything is going according to plan. You don’t even have to lift a finger.”

“According to your plan, not mine. I feel like I’m going to be a guest at my wedding.” I turn around in circles, fueled by rage.

Finally, I face him again. “You don’t get it, do you?” I take a breath. “It’s not the actual wedding that was overwhelming me. It’s our relationship. The main issue was you making plans and decisions without me.”

“Like I said, I was doing it for you.” His voice is harder now.

“No, Winston. You are doing it for yourself. You’re only thinking about you.”

He jumps to his feet and comes to stand in front of me, his hands around my shoulders as his eyes bore into mine. “I love you so much, Jenna. I want to make this work. I don’t know what more you want from me. I’m trying everything to make you happy.”

“And it’s not working because you’re doing it all wrong. The only thing you’re doing at the moment is making me unhappy.” I blink my tears away to clear my blurred vision. “You’re being selfish.”

I don’t know how it happens, when he lets go of my shoulders and his palm connects with my cheek. The only thing I know is that the cheek he struck is now burning and my hand is covering the pain. “How dare you?”

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry, baby.” His eyes are wide with horror. “I didn’t mean to do that.” He brings his hand to my cheek in an attempt to comfort me.

“Don’t.” I move away from him and go to the window, my heart in pieces. Then I turn around slowly to watch him watching me. He looks as shocked as I am. I never thought he would ever lay a hand on me. How dare he? No man has any right to hit a woman.

“Get out of my place.” My trembling hand points to the door, my throat so tight it’s hard to get the words out.

He rushes to my side. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t know what got into me.” He brings his palms together to beg. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“I guess you’re full of surprises. You’ve been surprising me quite a lot lately. I don’t like the man standing in front of me right now.”

“Don’t talk like that.” His voice is hoarse. I can see a flicker of anger in his eyes. He looks so much like his brother now. He has the same darkness in his eyes.

“It won’t happen again.” He tries to touch me again, but I shrink away from him.

“You’re right,” I say. “It won’t happen again.”

I don’t care that he’s a billionaire or the most eligible bachelor in the world. I don’t care that sex with him is mind-blowing. All I care about at the moment is protecting myself from him.

What if I marry him and he decides to do it more often? What if he believes then that I belong to him and he can do whatever he wants? I can’t stay long enough to find out.

“What are you saying?” The words tremble out of his mouth. “Are you kicking me out?”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.” Tears flood my throat.

I’m weeping inside, crying for what we could have had, for the fairy tale that’s about to end.

“Fine.” He shoves a hand through his hair. “You need time to think. I’ll respect that. Call me when we can talk. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“I don’t need you to make it up to me. I know your true colors now.” I smile through my tears. “I’m not...this is not what I want for me.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” His voice is low, cracked around the edges.

“I think I am.” I twist my hands in front of me. “I can’t marry a man who beats me. I don’t think I can trust you again.”

“That wasn’t me.” He jams his hands into his pockets. “Baby, believe me. That man was not me.”

“If I stay with you and you beat me again, you’ll probably tell me the same thing. It’s over. I can’t do this anymore.”

“That’s it?” His forehead creases. “You’re throwing us away just like that?”

“What you did is unforgivable. I’m not that woman.”

His shoulders hunched, he goes to the door and turns around. “I can’t let you go, Jenna. I love you too much.”

“If your love feels like this”—I point to my smarting cheek—“I prefer to go without it.” I sink down onto the couch and place my hands on my knees.

He looks angry now, his expression like thunder. He had struck me once. What if he loses it and does it again? What if he doesn’t handle rejection well?

He crosses the room to come to me again and sits down next to me on the couch. He, too, places his hands on his knees and stares straight ahead. “Believe me when I say I’m not that kind of guy. What happened...it will never happen again.”

He pushes himself to his feet again and goes to the door. This time he opens it. With one last glance at me, he walks out of my apartment and closes the door behind him.

Left alone, I drop my head into my hands and allow the tears to flow freely while my world collapses around me. The broken pieces of my heart are sharp and jagged and they hurt like hell.

After at least an hour of crying, I drag myself off the couch and go to the window.

Oh my God. His car is still outside. Clearly he’s finding it hard to let go. But there’s no going back to what we almost had. Fairy tales don’t belong in real life, only between the pages of a book. Love is not supposed to be this hard. I’m done with him.