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“You can do this,” I whispered out loud to myself. I mean, it’s only the engagement party of the man whose baby you carry. And you’ll only be attending with your husband, his brother. Then there was Jill. I had been fortunate enough to avoid her so far this weekend, but my luck was running out. I gripped the counter. How had I gotten into this mess? Sometimes I wished I had never told the truth and just disappeared. I knew, though, that running away was never the answer. How many times had I tried running away from the awful foster homes I had been placed in, only to be dragged back? It had only ever exacerbated the situation. As a result, punishments had gotten worse and I had been labeled as a troublemaker. Only the worst sort of families would take me then.
I had to face the music and figure out how to change the dial to my tunes. I hadn’t come this far to only come this far.
“Dani.” Brock knocked on the bedroom door. “Are you almost ready?”
Not even a little, but I could do this. I swiped a gold sheeny gloss across my lips and took some deep breaths before I headed out of the bathroom and across the bedroom. I opened the door to find Brock standing there looking dashing in a tux. I rubbed my heart, as if to tell it to remain calm and, most importantly, safe. I reminded it that there was no hope for Brock and me.
Brock’s eyes roved over me. For a moment he stood speechless, his mouth slightly agape. “You’re stunning,” he finally annunciated.
“Thank you. You look nice too.” I went to reach out and straighten his bow tie but stopped myself. Becoming too familiar with him wasn’t a good idea if I was going to survive this and stay mostly whole. “Your tie is a little off.” I pointed instead.
He straightened his tie and gave me a scrutinizing glance. “Are we okay?”
I nodded and grabbed the gold sparkling clutch that Sheridan had said I had to have. Apparently, it completed the ensemble. All I thought about was how much I could sell it for on eBay. It would buy a lot of Christmas gifts for Children to Love. Though I wouldn’t. I couldn’t hurt Sheridan’s feelings. She had been kind enough to bring me lunch earlier today when she heard I was working alone in the hotel room. She’d tried to convince me to come to the spa with her, but I couldn’t afford to love her any more than I already did. And I knew if I gave it a chance, we would be close, like a mother and daughter. It would be under false pretenses, though, and I cared about Sheridan too much to allow that to happen. Besides, I didn’t want to get used to things like spa days. Eventually, those things would come to an end when I figured a way out of this sticky situation.
Brock met me at the door, his eyes still questioning. He took my hand. “Dani, I’m sorry about last night. Things were moving too fast.”
“You don’t need to keep apologizing. I agree with you. We should slow things down.” I squeezed his hand before letting it go. Such loss filled me, but I kept my tears and emotions at bay.
He stared down at his hand, flexing it. Did he feel the emptiness too?
I had to stop asking myself questions like that. It wasn’t doing me any good. I opened the door and quickly walked out into the hall to face the night before I lost my nerve. Brock followed me, frustration etched on his handsome, tan face. He had gotten some sun today while golfing.
We walked down the hall together in silence toward the elevators. Brock stayed by my side yet was careful to keep some distance between us. In the elevator, we looked anywhere but at each other. The elevator chimed, announcing our arrival at our destination. It was time to be Mrs. Brock Holland. I slipped my arm into the crook of Brock’s elbow and pasted on a content smile as we passed through the elevator doors. Brock glanced down at me, a look of confusion and concern in his eyes. As we walked through the stately lobby, across the shiniest tile floor known to man, I could feel the stares and hear the excited whispers. It wasn’t every day you got to see an American hero in the flesh. A man who had graced every cable news channel for weeks. Brock was gracious and smiled at his admirers. I played my part and smiled too.
A middle-aged couple braved approaching us. The man heartily shook Brock’s hand while the woman complimented my dress. “Could I please get a picture of both of you?” she sweetly asked. “Our son is serving overseas right now, and it would mean the world to him.”
