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I force myself to stand. “I think we should. Thank you for everything today.” Even though no part of me wants to leave right now, I urge my feet to move. “I’ll see you.”
I need to get home, where I can relax and think.
I need a bath.
I need a cigarette. Just kidding, I don’t smoke, but if I did, I’d probably smoke a whole pack right now.
I just need an escape.
I walk away, not even waiting for his goodbye.
* * *
My hot bath is not helping me get rid of this tension coiling my muscles into pretzels. Bubbles are bubbling all around me, and I’ve even lit a few lavender scented candles, but I’m unable to relax.
No matter what I do, I can’t get Ellis’ hooded green eyes out of my mind. The way he stared at me, shooting flames of heat in my direction when he whispered, ‘you.’
It sends chills skating all over my heated skin every time I think about it. I shouldn’t be engaged.
I was so sure about everything when Henry asked me to marry him, but now I’m not so sure about anything anymore. What’s wrong with me?
Halp. I’m falling for the best man in my wedding.
I sink under the water, letting the silence encase me, thinking about everything I want in my life. What do I want?
Expanding my business.
Happiness.
Ellis.
Pure and simple. That’s about as long as I can hold my breath, so I emerge from the water, like a phoenix ready to be born again. Like a woman with a purpose.
“Kiki, are you home?” Henry’s voice calls from the front door. I jump, sloshing water onto the tile. “I used the key,” he says.
I grab the plush white towel from the railing and hit the lever to drain the water. My heart beat hammers away inside me, giving me new courage to face the things that will be most troubling.
Like facing Henry.
“I’m just in the tub. I’ll be out in a minute.”
After a quick dry of my hair, I dress in blue-pajama pants and a black tee. It feels like an elephant is standing on my chest. I can barely breathe, but I have to do this. There’s no way I can continue to plan a wedding if I’m not sure I even want to get married. When he asked, I definitely wanted to, but now I know I don’t.
Why is life so hard?
I wish I was a dog.
Life is so easy for them. Look at Georgia. She didn’t care if she married Ace or not. It’s hard being a human. There’s just something inside me that won’t let me go through with the wedding. Is it because of Ellis?
I don’t know.
But, what I do know is I’m not calling off my wedding for Ellis. I still have no intentions of dating him. I mean, what would be the point? His life is in Atlanta, and mine is here in Florida. Sometimes, they say people are brought into your life to help you find your way.
And I think that’s all Ellis is for me.
A compass.
One thing I know for certain—I can’t go through with this wedding. Ellis or not.
Henry isn’t the one. I don’t love him.
I take a deep breath, knowing I’m doing the right thing.
“Henry,” I call out, padding down the hallway. “We need to talk.”
I find him in the living room, sitting on my couch, one arm resting along the top. He flips through the channels on my TV. “What’s up?” he asks, raising a brow.
I sit next to him. “Henry, you’re a great guy,” I say softly, as if that will somehow keep him from shattering like thin crystal from the heavy blow that’s coming. “When you asked me to marry you, I was thrilled. I thought it was everything I’d ever wanted. I believed you and I could be happy. That I could make you happy.” I pause, clutching his hand in mine. “But, I don’t think I can make you happy, Henry.”
“Wait.” He lets go of my hand, so he can run it over his goatee. “What are you saying here?” His eyes grow wide, like he’s just figured out exactly what I’m saying. “Are you breaking up with me?”
“Henry,” I don’t know why I keep saying his name, “I’m sorry. I can’t marry you.” I slide the engagement ring off my finger. “I really think you’re great. I’m just not the one for you.”
“Hold on. I think we can make this work. So, what if you think we’re not made for each other. Who is?”
I blink. “Henry, you deserve someone who can make you happy.”
“I was happy,” he states, rather loudly, clearly losing his cool. I don’t blame him. And now my heart cracks a little more for hurting him. “Are you feeling ok?” he asks. “Maybe you should sleep on it.”
