Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 141676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
I never mentioned the void in my life my mom left behind or the way Nana always tried but could never make up for losing both of my parents.
There were so many things I never told him that I wanted to, that I wanted him to tell me. But there was never enough time, enough opportunity, enough of the right moment.
We were too busy playing at being in love.
It was never real.
“No,” Nana says, squeezing my fingers until I look at her. “It might not have been precisely what you claimed, but I have eyes in my head, girl. I know when something’s real.”
“The ring was a farce. Amazing, but fake.” I blink back tears. “The dating, the dinner with you—it was all a big lie. I’m so sorry.”
“So maybe you weren’t really engaged. Does that mean your feelings were a lie?” She holds my gaze, and for the faintest second, I see myself like she sees me. Tired. Quiet. Lost, with that hollow sadness in my eyes no amount of wine can drown. “I saw the way you looked at him, Junie.”
“But he doesn’t love me,” I whisper.
I mean it to come out strong. Just another truth. But my voice cracks and the sound slices through my heart.
That’s the worst part I can’t escape. I can’t get past the fact that he doesn’t feel anything.
But Gran just snorts. “And you know that how? If you tell me it’s because he didn’t tell you, I might just leave the table.”
“It was pretend.” My voice is too loud, cutting through the silence. “A business thing, Nana. I pretended to be his fiancée so he could convince this guy to do business and he gave me money and advice for the Sugar Bowl. We had a contract, signed and all.”
“So what?” She tuts and shakes her head. “Marriage itself is a contract and a promise. I don’t care about your past, Junie. I care about right now—and I remember the way you two looked at each other. There was no faking that.”
“Nana—”
“I remember the way you kissed,” she says firmly, laying down the gauntlet. She’s totally determined to finish now. “I remember being kissed like that a long time ago. I couldn’t fake that passion to save my life.”
Ugh.
I’m so screwed.
I also think of all the times we’ve kissed since, all the things we’ve shared, the way he took me to his balcony so he could show the world how much I meant to him.
The way he saw my scars and poverty and addiction to work, the things that haunt me even now.
The way he didn’t back away.
For the first time in a very long time, I felt safe. Protected.
“There’s a reason your little sham was so successful, you know,” Nana continues, and I look at her through wet, burning eyes. “Whatever you two told yourselves, your feelings were more honest. Your lips didn’t lie. That man is right for you, Junie, no doubt about it.”
Right for you.
It feels like a dream.
An absurd thought I can’t quite reconcile with my situation because he was right for me.
Except he wasn’t.
I wouldn’t be here crying into my stew if we had a happily ever after in the cards.
If he was right for me, why didn’t he ever flipping tell me?
And why didn’t I ever tell him?
“Look at you,” Nana says softly. “You’re not mourning a business relationship. This isn’t a simple contract gone wrong, it’s so much more.”
“No, no. But if I admit it—” I whisper brokenly, “—that makes it real. I can’t do that.”
“It’s always been real, love. You’ve just never wanted to stare it in the face before.”
I press my fingers against my eyes until fireworks bloom, red and angry ribbons.
Dexter was mad at me because he was scared.
He shouted at me to stay because he was so torn up about losing me.
He’d stormed in barking crap and protecting me from myself because he was afraid for my life.
…he wasn’t angry because Haute’s business with me ruined his big payday or because I didn’t listen.
His aggression came from a place of fear, the way a cornered dog lashes out.
Oh, God.
So maybe the way he treated me wasn’t okay.
But neither was the way I shot down his concerns. We both made mistakes, and now I’m here, sitting at Nana’s table and staring into my wine like it holds all the answers to life rather than more questions I hate I have to ask.
My heart doesn’t give me a choice.
Why did we have to yell and freak out and blow everything to smithereens?
Why couldn’t I just tell Dexter Rory I was falling in love?
26
SWEET REVENGE (DEXTER)
Archer’s about three seconds from becoming a human hand grenade.
He paces around the office, yanking his tie down his neck. Sweat blooms under his arms.
I’m sure I look just as disheveled. Hell, maybe worse.