Page 84 of Runaway Bride’s Husband

Perhaps I was scarred by Ryan’s deception or simply confused by Daniel’s sudden interest in my well-being, but with the latter texting every so often to check in and the former heart-wrenchingly missing from my life all of a sudden, I looked back up at her and realized that whatever patience I might’ve possessed before was gone.

“Who are you?” I asked abruptly. “Will you please just tell me so we can get this over with?”

She folded her hands on the counter. “I knew your grandfather.”

“Yeah, I already knew that much. I found a picture of you two together.” I fought a wince. “A wedding picture, actually. Of you in a dress and him in a suit, so it seems to me that it was more than just knowing each other.”

Viola pursed her lips, one of her fingers sliding over the simple, golden wedding band on her finger. I glanced down when I caught the movement from the corner of my eye and she sighed, moving her hands a little farther apart before dropping them back to her sides, but it was too late.

The woman was wearing a wedding ring, and an old one at that. It was worn smooth with age and lightly scratched, telling the story of an item she’d been wearing for a very long time. The lump in my throat grew, but she finally met my eyes again.

“Hubert was my first love,” she explained, tears filling her eyes even as she smiled. “We were young and probably stupid, but I prefer to think we were brave.”

“So you were married?” I asked, my voice hushed as I braced one hand against the counter in preparation for the blow I knew was coming. I wouldn’t run this time. “Is that still his ring?”

She shook her head, her brow furrowing like she was struggling to hold back tears. “Hugh and I were married, but not for long. We met in college and fell in love, but what I didn’t know at the time was that I wasn’t like him. My family isn’t wealthy and we weren’t part of the same circles.”

I blinked against the tears welling in my eyes. “He didn’t tell you who he was?”

“No, not at first.” She gave me a watery smile. “Well, I knew who Hugh was. Possibly better than anyone else, but I didn’t know what it meant that he was Pembroke. When we were married, I also didn’t know they’d already chosen a wife for him, a woman more suitable who was from a family more like his own.”

My stomach turned. “My grandmother?”

She inclined her chin a soft nod. “I believe so. He did love her, my dear. Eventually.”

“What happened?” I whispered. “How did he go from looking happy with you to loving her?”

She gave me a sad smile. “Like I said, we were both young and naive when that picture was taken. I’m not sure which one you found, but if it was from our wedding, then that remains true regardless of which exact one it was.”

“So you got a divorce?”

“When his family found out about us, Hugh tried choosing me,” she explained. “He told them he wasn’t going to marry anyone else and that he was already married, but I couldn’t let him do that.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

“I couldn’t let him throw away everything he’d been born to have simply because he’d fallen in love with me,” she said like it was obvious. “I told him he deserved the life waiting for him. A life of wealth and success. A dynasty. I wouldn’t be the reason he gave it up.”

“But he chose you,” I whispered. “You’re the person he wanted to be with.”

She nodded, glancing down at her ring. “We were both heartbroken at first, but then we grew up, my dear. We lived good lives. Different lives but very good ones. We even occasionally kept in touch. Your grandmother and my husband were both aware of our correspondence. It was nothing inappropriate.”

The tears threatened to spill over as I thought about my grandfather sitting down to write the love of his life with the wife he hadn’t wanted in the next room. A wife who’d been a good person, a great wife and mother, but who had also lived out the rest of her days knowing what being with her had cost him.

It might even have cost her the same thing. I had no idea if she’d also had someone in her life when their marriage had been arranged. The whole situation was devastating.

“The last time he wrote me was after your grandmother died,” Viola said. “I’m sure that was before you were born or perhaps shortly after, but he was very proud of his grandchildren. He mentioned finally having a granddaughter on the way. I believe that might’ve been you.”

“Yes, it must’ve been. I’m the only girl.”

She smiled. “I thought so. He was thrilled about welcoming a little girl after the absolute tide of boys they’d been blessed with. Did he leave you the cottage? I’ve been wondering since that first time you came in here.”

Fighting tears, I couldn’t speak for a moment. The Pembrokes had forced them apart. My own family, even so many years ago, had only cared about money and their legacy, wiping their asses on something they considered as trivial as love, and that had been over half a century ago.

Isn’t it about time something changed? For God’s sake.

Viola looked at me like she knew where my thoughts had gone and she reached across the counter to squeeze my hand. “You won’t regret it, if that’s what’s troubling you, but I do think of him sometimes and wonder what could have been if we—if I—had been braver.”

As I nodded, she folded the raincoat and handed it over, giving my hand another gentle pat. “I’ll be here if you’d like to talk some more.”