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Dev: How is everything on your end?
Will: Well Clem didn’t get to throw her rose petals, so it’s not peaches and rainbows if that’s what you’re asking.
Dev: Ugh, I know. I’m so sorry. Tell her Uncle Dev will take her to a fancy restaurant when he gets back.
Will: And when will that be? Where are you?
Dev: I don’t know. Nowhere in particular. I just left Nova so she could call Anders.
Will: Yeah. I can hear him yelling at her from down the hall. And I can already tell if Nova didn’t need you before she’s going to need you even more after she gets off the phone.
Dev: I should’ve kicked his ass before I drove her away.
Will: I wouldn’t worry too much. I’m pretty sure when Anders gets off the phone Brett and her uncles are going to have words with him.
Dev: Good. Brett saw us leaving. Think he’s going to kick my ass next?
Will: Nah. He already spoke to me. We’re the only ones who know she left with you.
Dev: Spoke to you? What did he say?
Will: Just that he was grateful his daughter had someone she could count on to see what he didn’t. Anders was a damn good actor around the Pratts Dev. But don’t get too comfortable. Brett’ll prob still have words for you when you get back.
Dev: I wouldn’t expect anything less. Will, I’m sorry I left such a mess. I just…I had to make sure she knew she had another option.
Will: I know. Just make sure Nova is taken care of.
Pocketing my phone, I strain to hear if Nova’s done. I’m met with silence, so I let myself back into the room. She’s slipped off her dress, the stiff skirt standing like a cone in the corner of the room.
Perched at the foot of the bed with her legs folded and her shoulders hunched, Nova stares at her phone in nothing but a thin slip and lacy bodysuit-type bra.
Cursing low, I turn toward the door. “Sorry, I’ll wait—”
“It’s nothing you haven’t seen, Devin.”
She doesn’t bother looking up as I lower next to her, her finger scrolling through text after text.
“I sent a text to my dad to let him know I’m safe but then made the mistake of opening Anders’ texts.”
Each message is written in caps and expletives, growing progressively more hurtful as she scrolls.
“I told him he should go back to Wyoming and we’d talk soon. I can’t do it now. I can’t.”
“Here’s what we’re going to do.” I take out my phone and power it off, then hold out my hand. “We’re going to shut off our cell phones and do something.”
“Something?” She places her phone in my palm with a humorless snort. “Because ruining a man’s life wasn’t doing enough ofsomethingtoday.”
Screw that. “Up, Spitfire.” I toss our phones on the bed and tug her to her feet, carefully keeping my eyes locked on hers because all that ivory skin is hard to ignore. “I want you to take a shower. Take a shower and feel sorry for yourself. Cry, scream, whatever you need to do, but I have one rule and one request.”
Her arms fold across her chest like a protective shield, her eyes urging me to continue.
“The rule is when that bathroom door clicks shut you have one hour to fall apart.” I hold up my index finger. “And my request is that when you step out of there in an hour, you let it all go.”
“An hour to mourn the loss of childhood friendships, a dream wedding, and the heart of a man who loved me?” Her eyes narrow, a little glimpse of the fighter I met four years ago.
“You want to go back?” I snap, moving toward her wedding dress. “Here, put it back on. I’ll text Willa. Maybe they’re all still there. Probably takes a while to get rid of all the decorations, flowers, and crap. I’m sure you can fix this. Call Anders. Tell him you’re sorry. Maybe he’s willing to accept whatever you say. Of course, he’ll find ways to make you suffer later. Little comments about your invalid opinion or your insolent attitude. He’ll comment on the length of your hair and how you style it, your excess weight after your first child. It’ll never end. Men like him always find ways to correct their little women.”
She glares.
