Page 58 of Secret Dynasty

“I’m going to wear the dress,” I said.

“Are you sure?”

Yes. Wearing the dream dress didn’t change anything. Eliza had said I looked like it was my funeral, not my wedding day before. Now I saw the truth in that. Today was my funeral. I would walk down the aisle, say my vows, and Kerrigan Belmond would be gone forever. If I was going to die, I would do it in the beautiful dress. I would remember how Holden’s eyes lit up when he saw me in it. I would linger in the moments we’d stolen together while I wore it. It wasn’t my wedding dress. It was my shroud.

Eliza helped me into the gown, taking care not to ruin my hair or make-up. Camille would check in soon to see if I needed any touch-ups, but as I looked in the mirror, I saw what the world would see. A perfect bride on her perfect day.

The lie was packaged and ready to deliver.

There was only one thing to do. I picked up the bottle of champagne and popped the cork.

“Do you think this is enough to get us drunk?” I asked as bubbles fizzed out the top.

Eliza didn’t respond. I looked up, blinking through my own tears, and found her staring at me. But she didn’t look sad or concerned, she was thinking.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Your therapist,” she said, her eyes darting around the room like she was moving invisible pieces into place. “What did he say about the panic attacks?”

“Why does that matter?” I had no idea why she had come back to this after everything I had confessed to her.

“Just tell me,” Eliza said impatiently.

“He said I should give into them or something,” I said, searching my memory for exactly how Dr. Simmons had put it. “It doesn’t really matter, though, I haven’t had one in days. I’ve been on the verge of one a couple of times, but I managed to stay in control.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem,” she said, sounding a bit too excited. “You won’t let yourself have one.”

“I hardly see how that’s a problem,” I said dryly. The last thing I needed was to pass out on the day of my wedding. Spencer would probably marry me regardless of my state of consciousness.

“Don’t you see? You said it yourself. You want to know the truth.” She bounced on her feet. “That’s what he was trying to tell you. You have to give in to the attack.”

“I don’t see how it’s going to help,” I asked.

“He said it was like drowning, right?”

I nodded.

“And he said he thought it had something to do with your mother’s death, right? Like it was a reaction to the trauma,” she continued.

“I’m sure it does. What’s more traumatic than that?”

“What if it’s your memories?” she asked. “What if you’re trying to remember? I mean if that’s where the trauma started, isn’t that where your memories got stuck? What if you could remember?”

I stared at her before slowly shaking my head. “It’s too late for that.”

“Like hell it is.” Eliza marched to the door and slammed it shut. She turned and pressed her body against it like a human barrier. “Holden left because he’s in love with you, and he couldn’t stand to see you get married.”

My head spun at the u-turn her thoughts had taken.

“I’m aware of that,” I said in a flat voice.

“And it doesn’t matter what dress you wear, you’re marrying the wrong brother today,” she continued, giving a voice to the terrible thoughts in my head.

“Eliza, this isn’t helping —”

“And you are going to become exactly the thing you tried to run away from,” she said, ignoring me. “Spencer is going to control you. He’s going to force you to have babies. He’s going to force you to smile and stand by his side. He’s going to lock you away in this house to rot, and he is never going to love you.”

Her words ran through me like ice. I wrapped my arms around myself fighting the sudden chill in the room. “What are you doing?”