Her Best Men - Page 5

He’s just looking. He’s just looking. That’s it. That’s all. Just looking.

I wove my way through the tables. He was smiling up at her in a way he hadn’t looked at me in years. His hand was on top of her hand as she rested it on his shoulder, and I tried to reason everything away. I looked at men. I checked out their asses. Him staring at her breasts was nothing. He was still marrying me, and he was still in love with me, and he was still dedicated to me.

Until I saw her slip him a piece of paper into the palm of his hand.

I stood there, frozen in my spot as I looked at him. He unfolded the note and showed it to his friend, who gave him a thumbs up. Like a fucking teenager in high school. I felt tears in my eyes as I watched his eyes dance with happiness. His fingertips gracefully folded the piece of paper back up before he tucked it into his pocket.

He was keeping it.

He was keeping the waitress’s number.

“I can’t do this,” I said.

I must’ve said it a lot louder than I’d intended because the room slowly quieted down as Michael’s eyes whipped up to mine.

At least I had his fucking attention now.

“What?” he asked.

“I can’t do this,” I said as tears crested my eyes. “I can’t marry you.”

Gasps ricocheted across the room as I began to backpedal toward the door. People were beginning to murmur as I heard a chair scrape along the floor. I turned, ready to make a run for it with the boots that covered my numbing feet.

But I felt a pressure on my upper arm as my body was whipped around.

“You can’t marry me?” Michael asked. “Since when?”

“Since I watched you take that waitress’s number,” I said.

“She didn’t hand me her number,” he said. “She handed me her email address.”

“For what? Does she have some sort of case she needs help with? Were you having a consultation with her when you were staring at her tits?”

“I would advise you to keep your voice down unless you want this whole room thinking there’s going to be no wedding tomorrow,” he said.

“Michael, there isn’t,” I said. “We aren’t right for this. We aren’t right for each other.”

“After all I did for you? All the money I spent flying you to and from this wretched state? The funeral I planned at your side? Have I not shown myself to be a devoted man?”

“You called me stupid ten minutes ago, and you’ve hardly acknowledged my presence all night.”

“Because everyone is here, Katie, and you act like it’s your show. This is for both of us. This is our wedding, not only yours. People didn’t fly in just to see you. They came to see me, too. And I’m not ignoring them because my bride-to-be is pissed that the spotlight isn’t on her all the time.”

“I’ve never been like that, and you know it,” I said.

“You were like that all through college, but I leveled you out. I was the one that stood by your side while you were off partying. I was the one that held your hair back when you got sick. I was the one that kept checking in on you until you could plant your feet firmly on the floor like a woman should do. That was me, Katie. Because I loved you.”

His words hit me like a punch in the gut.

“Loved?” I asked. “Past tense?”

“If you walk away from this, you’ll regret it. You’ll never find another man like me. You're an idiot if you can’t see what’s in front of you.”

“Idiot and stupid all in one night. Must be my lucky day,” I said breathlessly.

“Take a deep breath, Katie. Did you have a beer at that bar? How many did you have?”

“I’m not drunk. I’m not on my period. And I’m not anything else you wish to blame my outbursts on. You want me to be some perfect little trophy wife who doesn’t give a shit whose tits you stare at or whose number you get. Well, I’m done. I’m done with your controlling ways, and I’m done with you blaming everything on me. You can let the room know that the wedding is off.”

Tags: Rye Hart Erotic
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