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Mia: I KNEW IT!
Me: I can explain. Kind of…
Explaining means opening up my past and letting them see me for who I am. It means owning up to hiding a part of myself from my closest friends, which is considerably easier to not feel bad about when you’re the only one who knows.
Piper: Girls meeting. Now.
I sigh, resigning myself to the disaster that’s going to be the rest of the morning, and get up to pick out the perfect outfit.
If I’m going to the gallows, I might as well look pretty doing it.
“So let me get this straight. He wouldn’t sign your visa papers, so you…married him?” Mia asks from across the small bistro table.
We’d chosen a cute cafe down the street to meet. I thought it was better to have this conversation with witnesses in case they decide I’ve gone insane and my only hope is for them to kidnap me.
When I’d told Nicholas it was ridiculous to drive somewhere so close, he opted to trail me as I walked the entire way. I rolled my eyes at him, but he just smiled.
I shrug. “Pretty much.”
“Okay, not to be insulting, but why you?” Piper lays her chin in her palm, leaning forward with rapt attention.
Excellent freaking question, unfortunately one that I’d also love to know the answer to. “He didn’t say. Just that he has to get married and he wants it to be me.”
Mia grins into her coffee. “That’s actually kind of sweet.”
“He coerced me into marriage,” I scoff.
She shrugs. “Still sweet.”
“Why did you do it?” Piper cuts in.
Confusion tumbles through me. “What do you mean? You know I needed to do something, or I’d have to move back.”
“Yes, but don’t you think getting married is extreme? You could have moved home, then had everything sorted and come back. Or, now that you have experience, you could have found a Canadian team to work for.” She twists a strand of her hair. “So, what’s the real reason?”
I’ve been avoiding telling them for so long I have no idea how they’ll react when I do, but I owe them at least some of the truth.
“I can’t move back there because my ex will find me and won’t leave me alone.”
I explain everything I can about my past, holding only the most painful parts back. My manipulative ex. The rape, how my parents chose his side over mine. Chose their reputation over my sanity.
Piper’s brows pull together, hurt clear in her expression. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
Ah, there’s the question I’ve been expecting. I take a deep breath. “When I met you, I’d just restarted my life. I’d cut all ties with Thomas and didn’t want anything from that time seeping into the new me. I wanted to forget everything that happened and let myself recreate my life. Don’t get me wrong, there were countless times I wanted to tell you, but in the end, I just wasn’t ready.” Tears slip down my cheeks. “I really am sorry. Eventually, it just felt too late to bring it up.”
Piper reaches across the table and gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “Misty, there is nothing to be sorry about. You went through something traumatic, and you chose how you would recover from it. What kind of friends would we be if we centered our own feelings over yours?”
“Thank you.” I sigh.
“Of course.”
“You know, the guys are good at threatening exes,” Mia adds, a playfulness to her tone, but it’s cold dread that fills my stomach.
“Not him.” For a second, I debate explaining he’s a part of some rich people’s secret society, the same that people speculate Damon’s in. It basically makes them untouchable. I drop it. Some things are meant to stay secret, and the knowledge that a bunch of asshole men are basically controlling everything is one of them. No need to feel like a helpless ant if you don’t need to.
I subconsciously spin the silver bracelet. It’s providing way more comfort in this conversation than it should. Despite the fact that my dear husband coerced me into this marriage, he’s never made me feel like I should be anything but what I am. The thin band should freak me out, but there must be something wrong with me because I’m eating up the fact that he wants me to wear it. I can’t even begin to process how I feel about him. I know how my body responds, like he’s set it on fire, and it somehow was meant to be that way. Like, it’s just been waiting for him this entire time. But my brain? It’s split in two, and the sane, rational part tells me I need to get away from him as soon as possible.
The instinctive, selfish part of me, however, wants to believe he wants me. That I’m more than his latest obsession. I quickly squash that part because in one year, he’ll be gone, and if I’m not careful, there will be nothing of me left.
