Husband With Benefits-Chapter 890: That...

By the time Kael pulled up in front of her apartment, Arabelle had managed to steady herself, her emotions no longer threatening to spiral out of control. She was grateful for one small mercy: that she hadn’t yet moved in with His Highness, Prince Rafael Ignis. If she had, where would she have gone tonight to nurse her wounds? The thought brought a small, bitter comfort. At least she still had her own space—a sanctuary to retreat to when everything else felt like it was crumbling.

Murmuring a quiet word of thanks, she stepped out of the car without giving Kael a chance to speak. She wasn’t ready for words, not from him, not from anyone. Her mind was too crowded, swirling with thoughts and emotions she hadn’t fully sorted through. Tonight had been a night of revelations—painful ones that left her questioning herself.

The most significant realization? She had fallen for Rafael Ignis, and deeply so. Over the past month, despite her best efforts to stay on guard, she had let herself become enchanted by him. And that was entirely on her. She should have known better, should have seen the danger coming.

In hindsight, it wasn’t entirely surprising. She had admired him long before they’d spent any real time together, following his work from the moment Dora began dating Kael. She’d built up an image of him in her mind—one based on his reputation, his achievements and the changes he had fought hard for. And later, during their limited but meaningful interactions, she’d come to see him as more than just the prince everyone revered. Rafael Ignis was genuine, layered, flawed in ways that made him seem real, even approachable.

He reminded her of Gabe in some ways—someone who had made mistakes, paid for them, and emerged stronger, carrying the scars but also the wisdom. How could she not fall for someone like that?

But the walk from the car to her apartment brought a different revelation, one that struck her with just as much force as her heartbreak: anger. Beneath the ache in her chest, she felt the sharp sting of indignation, simmering just below the surface. Yes, she had made mistakes. She should have told him the entirety of her past—she’d had countless opportunities to do so. When he spoke of his own past, about the damage he’d caused Kael and the others, it had been a perfect opening to share her own story. And yet, she hadn’t.

Why? Because she’d been ashamed, or so she thought at the time. She had been afraid of how he would see her, of how the past might change the way he looked at her. But now, after hearing his words—that he was ashamed of her—everything had shifted.

She wasn’t ashamed of her past. Afraid to face it, perhaps, and even more afraid of sharing it with someone she cared about. But shame? No, that wasn’t it. Her decisions, flawed as they might have been, were hers alone. She had made them, lived with them, and moved forward, scars and all.

The anger flared brighter as she replayed his words in her mind, each one a sharp jab at her pride. How dare he? She had kept her past hidden, not out of deceit, but out of fear. Fear of rejection, of judgment, of losing what they had. But never once had she felt less than because of her choices.

Inside the house, Arabelle slammed the door shut behind her, the sound echoing through the empty space. She kicked at the edge of the couch, the sharp pain in her toes doing little to dull the ache in her chest. Ashamed of her? The words reverberated in her mind, each repetition a fresh wound. If Rafael Ignis truly felt that way, then he deserved more than a kick.

Tears streaked her cheeks, but they didn’t slow her movements. She moved through the house with a sharp, purposeful determination, her hands trembling as she grabbed at objects—a coat, a bag, a set of keys she wasn’t sure she’d need. She couldn’t stay. Not here, not now. If she stayed, she might end up doing or saying something she’d regret, and that wasn’t a risk she was willing to take. No, she needed space. Distance. Time to think, time to breathe.

The word—ashamed—cut through her resolve again, sharper than the rest. It wasn’t the first time she had heard it, and perhaps that was what made it sting so much. Someone else had hurled that same dagger at her. He had said it with a sneer, his tone dripping with judgment: he was ashamed of her because she was the daughter of a monster. Someone who preyed on the weak.

She’d been shaken but despite that she had hoped that he would see past something like that. The result had been that not just her heart but her entire world had been shaken. It had made her fearful of love and trusting anyone.

Even now, the memory stirred a faint bitterness, because of everything he had taken from her. But despite everything, she had come to understand one thing. He was the one who was a weak fool. But Rafe... He was different. He was no weak fool.

Rafe wasn’t some faceless critic or distant observer whose opinions she could not care less about. He was someone she admired, someone she had come to trust. And in her heart, despite all her fears and hesitations, she had allowed herself to care for him—deeply.

Finally, she was ready to walk out of the apartment. She was going to return now. She would go back, hide, lick her wounds and then return stronger. If Rafe could not respect her then she would not be with him. They would definitely work out some arrangement. She looked down at the ring that he had slipped on her finger and sighed as her fingers clenched. She did not want to take it off... Shaking her head at her own stupidity, she moved to take the ring off when there was a knock on the door. She stilled.