Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
“Not mine,” I lied. “Besides, there’s a ton of hot guys in this world.”
“Saying your husband is hot is like saying Mount Everest is hilly. Bitch is sizzling. I don’t know how you touch him without getting blisters.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her Romeo had stolen all of my Henry Plotkin books. I also didn’t want her to stab him with one of the decorative icicles that kept the vintage champagne bottles chilled. Momma and Daddy joined us. Together, we visited each table from our side and thanked people for gracing us with their presence. Presumably, Romeo did the same with his family, though I mentally checked out, trying to forget he was in the same room with me. It almost worked.
I’d just started to breathe properly—even the numbness in my fingers had gone away—when Daddy hauled me to the Lichts’ table. As his best friend from Georgetown, Mr. Licht showed up despite the bad blood with the Costas. He wouldn’t pass on an opportunity to prove he was unaffected by the public fiasco.
“Dallas, congratulations, my dear. You look stunning.” Mrs. Licht patted the corners of her mouth with a napkin, though she hadn’t touched any of the delicious food in front of her.
I nodded, wooden. My gaze pinned to the floor. I couldn’t look Madison in the eyes. Madison, who had let me choose my engagement ring. Who once promised me I could turn a room in his condo into my own library.
“Dallas.” His voice was impartial, not a trace of anger in it. I wanted to keel over. Even after his archenemy had sullied me, he still had kindness in him. “Look at me, please. I can’t …” He tossed his napkin onto his plate, rising to his feet. “I can’t bear for you to think that I’m mad at you. We weren’t really together. I understand.”
I dragged my gaze up from the floor. Madison looked so familiar. With his All-American blond hair and brown eyes rimmed green around the fringes. Though I felt nothing romantic toward him, I’d always assumed the feelings would come. That the comfort would bleed into happiness.
“Dallas.” He put his hand on my forearm. “Oh, Dal, please. Come with me.” He captured my hand. “Let’s wash your face.”
I let him lead me out of the ballroom. It was equally sweet and deranged of him to assume I’d let water touch my face after having my makeup done for three consecutive hours.
“I don’t want to wash my face.”
He stopped and turned to me, his hand still interlaced with mine. “Okay. Know what? Let me get you a plate of desserts. That always lifts your mood. Meet me out back.”
I felt comfortable sneaking out of my wedding to the back patio of the ballroom and sitting over the banister. After all, I couldn’t give one dang about whether someone discovered me with Madison.
The courtyard overlooked a small lake. Swans and ducks glided over the glacial water. Madison appeared with a plate laden with pink and coral macarons, white-chocolate éclairs, and gold-specked fruit tarts. The desserts looked too beautiful to be eaten. Nonetheless, I shoved a macaron down my throat, barely tasting it.
Madison sat beside me. “Better?”
I nodded, squinting at the never-ending rolling green hills and gardens bracketing von Bismarck’s property. “I’m really sorry, Mad—”
“Please, no more of this.” He patted my knee, smiling. “You and I both know you didn’t really cheat on me. We were always an arrangement. Don’t saddle yourself with unwarranted guilt. Was I disappointed? Yes. I liked you. I still like you, Dal. But you chose who you chose, and I accept that.”
Wanting badly to appease him and also unburden myself from the weight of the truth, I blurted out, “But I didn’t choose him at all. It was supposed to be one small kiss before I married you. Everything just snowballed, and now I’m stuck with … with … this beast.”
It felt good to be childish and authentic. With Madison, my childhood friend, I felt free to be a version of myself that would be thrown from the halls of polite and mature society.
Madison looked like the sky had fallen directly on his head. “Are you telling me you didn’t want to marry Costa?”
“No.” I tossed my hands up. “Daddy forced me after he caught us. Romeo planned this entire thing. He set me up.”
As I explained the chain of events to Madison, I knew in my heart that I wasn’t playing with fire, but rather a full-blown dynamite box. But the temptation proved too much. If the slightest chance of Madison freeing me from this arrangement existed, I wanted to seize it.
It took me three minutes to explain everything. After I did, he gathered my hands in his and faced me. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay married to him?”