Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
A wall slams over me, my face falling, every ounce of happiness she poured over me mixing and diluting itself with guilt.
“Oh. Um… Ariana, we’re… I mean, this…”
My gaze finds Roman’s steady one, too many emotions swirling in his gaze for me to name. A frown builds across my forehead.
“You don’t have to answer me now,” she rushes as she stands, and my head snaps her way. “I just wanted to throw it out there and add we are literally ready to sign the check over to you now, and nothing is going to change our minds. I’ll just be waiting and hoping for a phone call without the expectation of one. Well, that, and I wouldn’t mind an invitation to the wedding.”
I simply offer a close-lipped smile, shocked and confused, and everything in between.
“Enjoy your morning,” she says. “You guys deserve it. Maybe we’ll see you at the Christmas Eve feast tonight. Ian and his cousins are so excited to see ‘Santa.’” She beams, grabs her tray, and walks off. “And if you need someone to make a playlist for the big day, I’m your girl!” She laughs, waves, and walks away.
“…bye,” I say a moment later, but I’m not sure it came out as more than a whisper.
I stare out at the snowy hillside, the voices around me muffling until I hear nothing but my own thoughts, and I can’t even make out any of the hundreds of things running through my head.
Roman lowers into the seat Arianna vacated and leans forward, his elbows perched on his knees.
He and I stare at each other a moment, and I drag my fluffy sock-covered feet back into the cushion, my free hand wrapping tightly around me as the other tucks my cup into my chest.
“Kitten—”
“Stop.” I shake my head. “Just… stop. You knew, didn’t you? It’s why you came home after five years of staying away. It’s the reason you’ve been showing your face around the office, why you came up on the stage with me yesterday, why you wore a matching fucking outfit and said I’m your future wife?” My nostrils flare in an attempt to keep from crying. “Because you knew what we were building here and what people would assume because of that, what people would want and what would sell more.”
His brows crash. “That is not fair.”
“Don’t talk to me about fair,” I hiss, torment seeping into my every word and exposing me to the man before me. “God.” I look away. “What am I supposed to do? Sit around and lie? Let her think we’re this love-struck couple who created a dream out of this completely selfless and utterly magical moment that she gave to the man she did love, who loved her back and never gave up on her and wouldn’t dare walk away?”
“Noel, please,” he murmurs somberly. “Can we have a real conversation? Please?”
I swallow, my brows drawn in tight as I finally whisper, “I don’t know if you deserve one yet.”
I don’t know if I do.
Swiping a stray tear, from sadness or frustration, I don’t know, I glance at the gondola in the distance to avoid his probing gaze.
“Okay,” he says quietly, and I see him nod in my peripheral. “We don’t have to think about any of that right now.”
A scoffed laugh leaves me. “You stood up on a stage in front of everyone we work with and everyone we’ve ever considered working with and told them I was your fiancée, Roman. It can’t exactly be ignored like everything else between us has been.” I close my eyes. “And I just sat here and didn’t correct Arianna freaking Riley, the goddess of all wives. The woman who built a damn library for a hundred schools across the country, who saved music programs in ten counties this year alone. And just last week, they sponsored an entire high school’s football team, so they could afford to travel for the championship game they earned the right to play in but almost had to forfeit because of money.”
“The woman who trusted this idea to you with zero knowledge of me.”
I ignore his comment. “She’s pure and honest, and I just… lied.”
“You didn’t lie, Noel.”
My glare swings his way, but a smile pulls at his lips.
I stare at him, and this time, I allow myself to really look at him.
The sun shines along the left side of his face, highlighting the stubborn set of his jaw, but the harsh lines near his eyes are gone, the ones that appear when his stern features assess you, trying to dig their way deep into your core, but only to bury themselves so you can’t claw them out.
His granitelike face has softened some, a newfound peace lightening the shade of his eyes, and I won’t pretend I don’t know the reason for it.