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Confusion clouded my features. I’d won? Had Safia come to try to change Whitley’s mind? Had Whitley chosen me? What exactly had happened?
I pulled my phone out to see if Whit had tried to call or text. Surely, she would have let me know that her ex had shown up on the night before our wedding. But there was nothing there.
The alcohol in my system was clouding my mind, but it was draining away as I stared down at the blank screen. Not a word from her? That didn’t seem right. Whitley was theburn the world downkind of person. If Safia had shown up at her place and she’d turned her away, she would have told me to clear the air.
I didn’t want to make assumptions, but finding her ex walking out of the elevator was pretty damning. Especially with no fucking explanation. It wasn’t Safia’s job to tell me any of this. If I hadn’t stumbled into her, I wouldn’t have even known.
I jotted out a text.
You still up? I want to come up and see you.
I pocketed my phone as I stepped into the elevator and pressed the number for her floor. I expected a text by the time I got there. If Safia was just leaving now, she must still be awake.
But the text stayed onDelivered, notRead. Fuck.
I headed down the hall to her apartment. I fumbled the keys out of my pocket. I dropped them once, cursed under my breath, and picked them back up. I flipped through the keys until I found hers.
Then, my phone dinged.
haha why am I not surprised that you’re trying to break our agreement? Go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning!
I had the key to her place in my hand. I could walk right inside and talk to her about seeing Safia. I could figure this all out now. But … she didn’t want to see me.
I frowned. I wasn’t accustomed to this feeling. Much like Whitley, whenever things got complicated, I left. And now, disappointment coursed through me. I could ask her about Safia. I could start an argument with her right before we tied the knot. Or I could trust her.
Safia was gone.
She said I won.
What was I trying to prove by barging into Whitley’s apartment?
Maybe she’d tell me all about it tomorrow.
31
WHITLEY
Today was my wedding day.
And I looked like a drowned rat.
My eyes were red and puffy from the alcohol … and crying. I hadn’t wanted to cry, but when Safia left and the events of the evening came crashing down, I’d crawled into bed and cried into my pillow like it was my own version of therapy. Now I felt sluggish from the lingering effects of drinking.
I forced myself into a shower. The scalding hot water helped dispel my queasiness. I towel-dried, applied light make-up, and hoped I looked like a human.
After all, it was a new day.
A brand-new day that just happened to be my wedding day. Something I had all been but convinced would never happen. And here I was, marrying Gavin King of all people. Maybe by the time I got to the venue and through hair and makeup, I’d figure out what I was going to say to him.
A knock sounded on my door, and anxiety spiked through me. Maybe that was him now. Maybe I’d have to decide sooner rather than later. But when I pulled the door open, Anna English was waiting for me.
“Happy wedding day!” she cried, throwing her arms around me.
I laughed. “What are you doing here?”
“What? You thought I’d leave something up to chance? Of course not. I have a car waiting to take us to Percy Tower. Katherine and Lark are meeting us in our private suite for hair and makeup.”
“Bless you, English.”
