But my mind is elsewhere, replaying last night over and over, dissecting every word, every touch. How did we go from those kisses to him walking out? And why does it hurt so much, when this marriage was never supposed to mean anything?
— Jane? You still with us? Keira asks, pulling me back.
— Sorry?
— I asked if you want to leave around two to go into town.
— Oh—yes. That’s perfect.
— You seem distracted this morning, my mom says, suddenly sharp. Is it because your husband left so early?
I force a smile.
— No, Mom. Just tired. Yesterday was a lot.
— And the night even more so, I imagine, she adds.
— Mom!
— Oh, come on, honey, it was your wedding night. It reminds me of my first night with your father. We were in Vegas, in that chapel where the officiant was dressed as Elvis?—
— I think I’ve eaten enough, I say quickly, standing up before she can continue. If you’ll excuse me, I have a few things to take care of before this afternoon.
— “Things”? Savannah echoes, grinning. What kind of things?
— Very important things that absolutely require me to be somewhere else, I say, backing toward the door.
— Like calling your husband to ask why he ran off at dawn? she suggests sweetly.
I shoot her a glare.
— Like getting some fresh air before I commit murder on my overly curious best friend.
Keira bursts out laughing.
— You’re perfect for this family, Jane Carter-McGregor. Meet me in the hall at two. In the meantime, Savannah—want a tour of Castle McGregor?
Savannah lights up like she just won the lottery.
— Yes! I want to know everything. About the castle… and its inhabitants.
She gives me a pointed look on that last word. I roll my eyes as she and Keira head out together.
I leave the dining room with as much dignity as possible—which isn’t much, considering I basically fled a conversation about my nonexistent wedding night.
Once in the hallway, I lean back against the wall and close my eyes.
Why does this bother me so much? Our arrangement was clear from the start: a contractual marriage, no emotions, no complications. I should be relieved that Callum came to his senses after our moment of weakness.
So why does it feel like there’s a stone lodged in my chest?
My phone vibrates in my pocket. For one irrational second, my heart jumps—thinking it might be Callum.
It’s not.
It’s a message from my agent.
Max
