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He laughs. “It…was supposed to be a surprise. But please feel free to televise it. I’m sure everyone she knows will be dying to watch her walk down the aisle.”
He was right.
Troy always wins. That’s what he does. He competes. He manipulates.
And I have a very long year ahead of me.
But a year spent at his side isn’t what’s been keeping me up at night. It isn’t what’s had me crying myself to sleep for the last week and a half.
It’s the look on Chase’s face that haunts me.
Part of me wishes he’ll refuse to believe it. The other part knows it’s not fair to ask him to wait. Or to forgive me for agreeing to Troy’s demand for a public breakup.
I’m a sellout.
I’m no better than my father. I never was. I left town because I didn’t like the way people looked at me. I wanted better. I wanted new. I wanted anonymity.
Well, I got it.
No one wants to know me now.
I’ll be a politician’s wife. And next year, I’ll be a politician’s ex-wife. Who took her money and ran.
My eyes sting and I’m sure to ruin my makeup before this private plane even lands outside of town. The wedding is supposed to be at the far end of town by Hideaway Lake.
Where I once imagined a spring wedding next to the man I love. Wearing my mother’s tiara, made with my grandmother’s pearls. The one I couldn’t remove the damn veil from on my wedding day so stuffed it into my backpack.
I opted for no veil this time when the planner showed me samples of a winter wonderland wedding in Colorado.
I wonder if he’s here today.
I wonder if he knows…
I’ve played out coming back to him after a year to tell him everything. And each time I do, his expression is the same; cold, hard and dismissive.
Troy made sure Chase would never want to see me again. It’s the only way he agreed to one year. Making sure I had nothing to go back to.
My chest tightens with fear at the possibility. Fear that Chase didn’thear my hidden message at the rink. Fear that I ended up taking him down with me when I fell. And like life after a hurricane, he has to slowly build back.
I’m not ready to let go.
I want to wrap my arms around him. Throw myself at him. Freeze him in time so that he can’t pull away from me when I try to explain.
Because I’ve done well to remember the one thing Chase Reeves never does.
Chase.
“Ms. Walker?”
I look up from my seat. “Yes?” I don’t bother with corrections anymore. There’s no point to them. But I’ve got no quarrels with the man in front of me. He’s one of Troy’s messengers I used to deliver Charlie’s check.
“Ms. Whitley asked me to deliver this to you.”
I frown. “What is it?”
“I think she said a thank you note.”
Relieved, I sigh. “Oh.” I take the envelope. “I appreciate it.”
