Fredric’s POV

Where did they go?

That question kept echoing in my head. My biggest impulse right now was to walk around this island and make sure they were just sitting somewhere — not doing anything stupid.

Why do I even care this much?

God, this is torture.

But still… I can’t bring myself to admit that what I’m feeling is jealousy.

If it ever came to that — if I ever actually admitted to being jealous over Mathilda — I might as well shoot myself.

Someone like her could never interest me. She’s nothing but a bothersome, fragile little girl.

“Would you like another drink, sir?” the bartender asked.

Yeah. I’d been downing cocktails one after another — I’d lost count of how many glasses I’d emptied. My head was starting to spin.

“Yes, and— wait, no. No, never mind.”

I stopped mid-sentence and tossed some money onto the counter when I saw Mathilda walk past, her head bowed.

Why is she back?

Did that guy leave her?

Her steps were slow, almost dragging — she looked defeated.

As much as I c