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“If you have a question, ask it.” For the second time, I did nothing to mask my irritation—until her eyes filled with tears. Then I drew her into my arms like I had so many times in the last few weeks, comforting her as I would a sister instead of the woman I longed to make mine. “Tell me why you’re crying.”
“I’m not,” she said, wriggling out of my arms. “You’re the one—”
“I’m not crying, either.” I smiled.
Luisa huffed but didn’t walk away. “I’m wondering why you didn’t mention you were leaving.”
“I hadn’t decided until a few minutes ago. If you’re concerned about staying on here without me, you needn’t be. You are not my guest; you are Tryst’s.” I’d spent enough time with Luisa to be familiar with many of her expressions. She had something else she wished to ask. “Whatever it is, just say it, pet.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Very well. Whatever it is, just say it, Luisa.”
“Never mind.”
When she stalked away, I didn’t follow. I’d spent the last two months repeatedly inserting myself in her life in any way she’d have me. Thus, she’d become dependent on me, and that wasn’t healthy for either of us.
10
LUISA
Iglanced over my shoulder. Rather than follow me into the tent where the wedding celebration would be taking place, Press went in the opposite direction.
“What’s wrong?” Seraphina met me at the tent’s entrance.
“Press is leaving,” I said, biting my lower lip.
She took both my hands in hers. “Not until tomorrow.” My sister cocked her head. “Luisa...”
I rolled my shoulders and forced a smile. “I was surprised, that’s all.” When a man walked past us with a tray of champagne, I grabbed two glasses and handed one to her. “I’m so happy for you,” I said, raising mine in a toast. She touched my glass with hers, and I took a sip.
“Come with me,” she said, tucking my arm in hers and leading me over to where Ridge was talking to Brix and Beau.
“I hope you’ll save me a dance,” said Beau, the man whose very presence made my pulse race even though I knew he wasn’t the slightest bit interested in me.
“I suppose, as the only bridesmaid, I’ll need to save a dance for all the groomsmen.”
Rather than respond, Beau pulled his phone out and studied the screen. “Where’s Press?” he asked abruptly, looking between Ridge and Brix.
“Not sure. Why?” Ridge asked.
“I need to speak with him.” Beau excused himself and left the tent.
“I’ll find out what’s happening,” offered Brix when Ridge appeared he might follow.
Did it make me a narcissist to wonder if whatever they needed to talk about had something to do with me? Or was it normal, given it had only been two months since my abduction?
Due to the holidays, as well as my sister’s wedding, it had been over a week since I last spoke with my therapist. We didn’t have another appointment scheduled until after the first of the year. She’d said that if I felt as though I needed to talk sooner, I could send a message, and she’d make the arrangements. I wouldn’t do so today, but maybe tomorrow. Especially since Press announcing he was leaving filled me with dread. Foreboding might be a better word. Panic fit too.
My dependence on him was a regular topic of conversation between Dr. Benedict and me. As was the crush I had on Beau. The latter didn’t seem to concern her quite as much as the former. While she hadn’t suggested I go “cold turkey,” as they say, she had advised I begin weaning myself from Press.
I wasn’t as worried about him saying he was leaving tomorrow and had no plans to return to Tryst’s ranch as I was that he hadn’t mentioned when we might see each other again, if ever.
I’d gone from staying with him at Seahorse to doing the same at Butler Ranch. Was it time for me to return to the apartment my mom and I shared in San Luis Obispo?
I gripped the back of a nearby chair when I felt a full-blown panic attack coming on just from thinking about living there again. It wasn’t as though Jorge—Manual Varilla, as I had to repeatedly remind myself—had taken me from the apartment. The last thing I remembered before waking up bound and gagged in a shipping container was going to his place after we’d had dinner together.
“Luisa?” My sister covered my hand with hers. “Why don’t we sit down for a few minutes?”
