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“You’ll never have to,” she assured him, taking his arm in her hand. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he told her, picking up the stack of envelopes and walking to lay them on his desk.
“Hey, Asher?” she asked.
He turned back to face her. “Yeah?”
“Why don’t you work for your dad? Because of your past?”
He nodded. “Nobody wants someone with a past like mine managing their finances.” He grimaced. “Besides, I wanted to do something for myself. I wanted my money, my things, to be my own. I never liked relying on my father to take care of me.”
“I can understand that,” she said, although it wasn’t completely true. She never wanted more than her parents could give her, and they hadn’t had nearly the money Asher had. “I just wondered. I mean, you’re the only son. Does it bother him that you don’t work for his company? He said a few of your cousins do.”
He frowned. “We’ve never really talked about it. I think it’s…tense, you know, obviously. But it is what it is.”
She stood from the couch. “I like that you make your own money.”
“I’m always going to take care of you, Blythe. You know that, right?” He took a step toward her, meeting her in the middle as she moved toward him.
“I do,” she said, letting the all-powerful words slip from her tongue.
He smiled, leaning in for a slow kiss. “See, I was right. It soundsmuchbetter coming from you.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
TWO MONTHS LATER
Blythe stood in front of the long mirror at the church. The white gown hugged her curves, the ballgown skirt giving her princess vibes. She was wearing Grandmother Lorene’s veil, a design on it that matched the ring she’d recently gotten back from being sized. The veil was beautiful, just like the ring, and so were the flowers Blythe and Mona had slaved over for months. Everything had come together in just seven months—the wedding of her dreams.
She hadn’t heard from Finn since that night just four months ago. She’d spent the next week in her apartment telling Asher she needed to pack since she only had a few months left to get it done, but in reality, she was trying to make a decision that would shape the rest of her life.
She couldn’t deny, even now in her dress, that Finn would possibly always have a piece of her heart. She’d given it to him unknowingly, and it was likely she’d never get it back. But Asher had the other half. He’d worked for it. He’d earned it. Asher didn’t deserve to have his heart broken.
Not that Finn did, either. But Finn had chosen to leave. He’d chosen to hide his past rather than just be honest and take the risk. He’d made the choice for her, and at the end of the day, that was what mattered.
As she stared at herself in the mirror, at the perfect makeup and hair, the dress she never could’ve afforded before, and the ring that glistened on her finger, she couldn’t help but be sad that her mother wasn’t standing next to her. She was supposed to be, after all. This was a day they’d dreamed of for most of her life. She was supposed to wear her mother’s veil, but it had burned up in the fire, like most of her belongings. Everything she’d owned had either been stolen in flames or ripped from her grasp the day she arrived in New York.
Everything about this day was fresh, new—just like the life she was walking into. It didn’t feel the way she’d imagined it, but somehow that was okay. As long as she had Asher, as long as he loved her, everything would be okay.
“I wish you were here, Mom,” she whispered, running a hand over her nervous stomach as her lip began to quiver. The next thought wasn’t spoken aloud, but she hoped her mother could hear it anyway.You’d know what to do.
A knock on the door startled her, and she quickly brushed the tears from her eyes. Cathy, a girl she catered with and had chosen to be a bridesmaid, poked her head inside. “Hey, love, you about ready?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“Okay, um, someone wants to see you first.”
Her heart fluttered at the possibility. Who could it be? Rather, whoelsecould it be? He shouldn’t have come, but she couldn’t deny the hope she felt at hearing her words. “Sure. Send them in.”
She nodded, shutting the door for just a moment. When it opened, it was Jacob, not Finn, standing in front of her. The hope deflated from her chest like a balloon that had been popped. “Jacob,” she said, trying to sound happier than she felt. “Everything okay?”
He shut the door before he responded. “You look beautiful.”
She smiled at him, confusion coming out in her expression. “Thank you.”
He cleared his throat. “I need to tell you something, Blythe. You can make of it what you will, and it’s probably not my place to say anything, but I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, leaning against the white chaise lounge beside her. Her head pounded at the way he was looking at her. Something was very wrong.
