“I hate to cut out early, but I can’t do this right now,” she said.
“Okay, let’s grab a seat,” he said, already looking for a place to put her. “I’ll get you a drink.”
He slid his palms down her bare arms and took her hands, offering comfort and understanding. But he didn’t understand. And all of a sudden it became imperative that he did.
“Not the dancing, Hunter.This.” She gestured back and forth between them to encompass the enormity of her words. “I can’t do this right now.” Her voice broke. “I have to go.”
“Whoa, don’t cry. Give me a minute, and I’ll just grab Brody’s keys and drive you home.”
“You can’t leave,” she said, horrified. “It’syourrehearsal dinner.”
“But driving at night is bad for a migraine.”
And staying here for one more moment would be bad for her heart. The weight of her decision was all-consuming. Her chest tightened tothe point of agony, and the bile that had been churning in her stomach for the past six weeks burned the back of her throat.
She didn’t have any destination in mind. Only knew that she had to get out. Spread her wings one last time before she settled into her new future—so that Hunter could hold on to his.
“I’ll be fine.” She’d weathered storms rougher than this. “Be happy, Hunter.”
With one last glance, to put every nuance of his face to memory, Mackenzie turned to walk through the rose garden, the pungent fragrance stinging her nose, the weight of the night clinging to her skin.
Being with Hunter was like music without sheets—no restrictions or limitations. Just easy, natural, freeing. He embodied a sense of peace and weightlessness that had given her hope to dream when she’d desperately needed something to hold on to.
It was the same gift she was determined to give him in return. Which was why she had to say goodbye.
