Page 85 of Runaway Bride’s Husband

Giving me an obvious out I desperately needed, she smiled and turned to walk into the back office, and I simply murmured a thank you instead of trying to stop her. After sliding my arms into the raincoat, I headed back to the cottage through the gentle drizzle, reeling over everything I’d just learned.

My grandfather had loved her. He’d loved her enough to choose her, but she’d loved him enough in turn not to let him, and although she’d insisted they’d both lived good lives, I’d also seen the look in her eyes when she’d said she still thought about it sometimes.

It didn’t take a trained psychologist to see that she regretted her decision. At least on occasion.

When I got back to the quiet cottage, I sat on the couch and stared at the rain sliding down the windows, thinking about everything they’d both given up simply because his family—our family—had told him what his life was supposed to be. They’d refused to accept it when he’d chosen differently, still using that godforsaken inheritance to hold him hostage from the sound of things.

He’d tried to fight tradition, and in the end, he’d lost because she hadn’t wanted him to give up what he was entitled to as a Pembroke. It was crazy to think that so much time had passed and the family’s MO was still the exact same.

Finally, I pulled my phone out of my purse, hesitating for only a moment before I scrolled to Daniel’s number and pressed call. I couldn’t turn back the clock and give my grandfather and Viola a second chance, but I sure as heck could make sure that Daniel and I didn’t get to our eighties only to find ourselves in the same position.

CHAPTER 37

RYAN

Afew weeks after the last time I’d seen Maggie at that bar, I’d dropped back into old routines, but what had happened with her still stung. Committed to denying that even to myself, however, I woke up at the ass-crack of dawn every morning and worked out until my limbs were numb. Then I went to work, grabbed takeout for dinner or went out with my friends, and went to sleep.

Every now and then, I’d even gone on a date. None that had led anywhere. I just hadn’t felt it, but since that had been part of my routine before she’d reappeared in my life, I figured I would give it go. I’d barely made it past the appetizers before getting out of there, though.

It was like clockwork.

One time, I hadn’t even made it through my first drink, which was ridiculous considering that I was determined to get over Maggie. But I’d spent almost a month thinking about nothing and nobody else.

Time and again, I’d heard the whole, the best way to get over someone is to get on top of another thing from my friends, but I couldn’t even bring myself to think about it. I literally felt sick to my stomach every time I even tried giving the idea any real consideration at all.

Which was even more ridiculous.

At this rate, I was going to die chemically neutered by own brain. As infuriating and frustrating as that was, however, I was throwing all that pent-up emotion and aggression into my workouts and my work, and at least it was paying off there.

Until I got home one afternoon and my doorman stepped away from his desk. “Mr. Thayer? This came for you today.”

I stopped and glanced at the envelope he was holding out. Instantly, my stomach turned to ice. The embossed lettering on the front of the thick, expensive cardstock held Maggie and Daniel’s names entwined. My heart plummeted, but I took it from him, nodded, and headed up to my apartment.

So this it. She’s sent out the wedding invitations.

Bile rose up the back of my throat, a heavy sensation descending on my insides even as a crack tore through my heart. Opening the envelope with my thumb, I reached in and pulled out the elegant invitation, my gaze scanning the information on it quickly before I realized there was something missing.

For some reason I couldn’t even begin to fathom, she was getting the venue she’d wanted, but there was no mention of the carnival. I read it again to be sure, but there was nothing. Apparently, the reception was taking place in the ballroom.

Every little thing about the wedding that had made Maggie’s eyes light up, outside of the venue itself, seemed to have been eradicated, including the vibrantly colorful ideas she had for the invitation.

This paper was cream-colored and shimmery, the lettering black and elegant. Before I even knew it, I’d crumpled the damn thing in my fist and I was on my way back out.

For the last few weeks, I’d kept to my carefully crafted routine without a single break. It had been designed to keep me away from her, the wedding, and anything even remotely related to a Pembroke, but here I was, shooting all that effort to shit as I tore out of the parking lot and raced upstate.

My brain was barely functioning as I ripped into the parking area of the shady, carnival-ride storage lot, spraying gravel across the yard from how hard I turned in. Even Brutus and Blanche gave me a wide berth when I jumped out of my car and stormed in, proving that they were smarter than I’d initially given them credit for.

“Ryan?” Steven asked, stepping out from behind one of the trailers with a curious furrow on his brow. He wiped his hands on a rag before shoving it in his back pocket and jogging over. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yeah.” I folded my arms and arched an eyebrow at him. “Why isn’t Maggie getting her carnival? We made that booking over a month ago. Don’t tell me it’s suddenly unavailable or⁠—”

Steven sighed. “Son, she isn’t getting it because some guy called and canceled. We were ready to roll. We still are. Everything she wanted is still available, but we took the event off our schedule because we were told it wasn’t necessary anymore.”

I stared back at him in a state of utter disbelief, feeling the fight whoosh out of me when I realized he looked completely genuine. “Some guy called and told you it wasn’t necessary?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, he said the plans for the wedding had changed and told me to keep the deposit.”

“Did you speak to Maggie?” I asked. “Or only this man?”