Surrender

She waved her hand in the air. “Of course we do. It’s what we do now.”

“We’re in a transition period, Aubrey,” I offered her the s

ame explanation Vaughn gave me a hundred times. “It won’t stay like this.”

“Try on the dresses.” She pointed to the beaded gowns. “Go. Life crises can wait.”

I didn’t feel good about dropping the conversation, but I couldn’t press her to dig deeper into those wounds.

“All right. First dress coming up.” I selected the long black velvet gown and disappeared into the bathroom.

Chapter Twenty-One

I’d always loved the vanity in our bedroom. It had been ridiculously expensive and unnecessary. I applied my makeup in the bathroom, but I liked to pretend in this new life as Kate Birch, I was the kind of woman who would spend time in front of the mirror with soft lamp light, spending time preparing for dates with my husband. I’d lay out all the high-end cosmetics and over-priced brushes. One by one, I’d use creams laden with pearls, and serums guaranteed to keep me infinitely young.

Tonight, I sat in front of the vanity for the last time. My makeup was already applied. I had used the bathroom mirror as usual. I gripped the pen in my right hand. The sequined gown fanned around me. My hair was up in a loose bun. I wore new diamond earrings. A gift from Vaughn.

The words on the page weren’t coming as easily as I thought they would. I had a lot to say, and no direction on how to put them together. Nothing would change what we had done. Nothing could take back the betrayal. The trust that I had broken.

I sighed. It was an impossible letter to write.

“Babe, you ready?” Vaughn walked in, looking irresistible in a fitted tux. My heart beat faster.

I looked up. “Not yet. I need a few more minutes.”

He tapped his watch. “The Auclairs are waiting. The car is downstairs.”

I filled my lungs with as much air as I could. I was fighting to extend the minutes, even seconds, wherever I could. “Ok. I’ll be there in a minute. But would you grab my wrap from the closet for me?”

“Of course. I’ll let Paul know we’re headed down.”

He strolled to my closet and lifted the fur wrap from the hanger. He turned off the light.

“Not too much longer,” he warned.

I nodded. “It won’t be.”

I turned back to the letter I was writing. The one thing I had been absolute about doing was the hardest thing. All I wanted was to write the truth.

I scribbled my name at the bottom and folded the letter inside the envelope. I had written Aubrey’s name and address across the front.

This may be the only time I ever had to write to the people who meant the most to me. I slipped her letter under the stack for my family. I didn’t want the words to be all my mother had, but there was a chance they would be. I wanted her to know most of all that I was happy and loved.

It would be hard for her to believe that a man who loved me so fiercely would take me away from my family. That he would rope me into a life on the run. That he would keep me from them indefinitely. To her, it would sound like a prison. Like a trap.

I realized no matter what words I chose to justify it, I’d never be able to convince her all those things weren’t true. The same rules that applied to Garrett didn’t apply to me. Garrett couldn’t help it. He was a victim. Me? I was throwing my life away because of a warped romance.

I wrote to her anyway. It was my only chance to give her my narrative. I carried the letters with me out of the bedroom.

I joined Vaughn in the foyer. I turned, allowing him to drape the wrap over my shoulders. It was the accessory Aubrey insisted I needed for the glittery gold dress. While my back was to him, I took in every inch of the flat one last time.

Vaughn’s hands were on my shoulders. “We have to go,” he whispered.

“I know.”

I was fighting with myself. I didn’t want to let all this slip away, and it was the last reaction I ever expected.

I turned abruptly. I didn’t need to torture myself. I still had a mission to complete tonight. When this was over and we were safe on the other side, I could think about the nights on the couch watching old French movies. I could remember all the bottles of wine we drank and the endless hours I spent wading through Julia Child recipes. The night Vaughn tossed me the ring. The mornings drinking coffee and reading to each other. The way I walked around the apartment stumbling through audio French lessons. There would be a time to reflect on this chapter of our lives.