Paige sighs softly in her sleep, turning toward me. As she buries her face in my chest and continues to sleep, I stare at nothing with my eyes open, hating the fact that the knot in my chest is easing with her in my arms.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Paige
When I open my eyes, I realize I’m not alone in my room. A heavy arm rests across my belly. I don’t have to turn to know that it’s Ryder. No other man can make my skin tingle or my awareness prickle.
But I’m not about to let my hormones dictate my feelings right now. What he said last night is still circling in my head. Just because he decided to spend the night in my bed doesn’t mean he’s changed how he feels. Maybe he thinks he misjudged the situation, but he should’ve never suspected me in the first place. He should’ve given me his trust.
I stay still for a moment, listening. He breathes heavily, his mouth slightly parted. He probably came in much later than I did. I slide off the bed carefully…and thankfully he keeps sleeping. I don’t want to face him and talk to him about what happened or how I feel right now. I’m still too upset, and it isn’t the kind of conversation I can have on less than six hours of sleep. Not when my eyes fee
l gritty and my head full of wet cotton.
I go to another suite to shower so I don’t wake Ryder. I would normally dress casually, but since I plan to go out later today, I choose my outfit with care. I put on a white satin blouse and a pale green skirt. A pair of cute strappy sandals and I look good enough to meet with Anthony. I still have his card, and I plan to talk with him about Lauren before he leaves L.A. Unless I understand what truly happened between the three of them, I’ll never understand why Ryder is behaving the way he is.
Why does it matter? The wedding’s probably off, the pessimistic side of me whispers, but I don’t care. I want an explanation. I deserve to know.
But first things first.
Breathing in deeply, I march to the guest house. I have to talk to Mom and Simon. There’s no way I can avoid them, and in any case, they deserve to hear the news from me.
Shame and anger burn in my belly, but I push them aside. My parents already know I’m ashamed—they know me too well not to. And I’m pretty sure Simon is flabbergasted. He’s a teacher after all, and will have to go to work knowing that his peers and students have undoubtedly seen the tape.
I ring the doorbell and wait. The housekeeper answers. Her expression is stoic, and no sympathy shows in her eyes. “Good morning. Your parents are in the kitchen.”
“Are they having breakfast?” The guest house has a formal dining room, but my parents will be more comfortable at the simple counter in the kitchen.
“Yes. Do you want me to let them know that you’re here?”
“No. I’ll go see them.”
I walk to the kitchen where Mom and Simon are having a breakfast of poached eggs, fruit salad and yogurt. Mom sees me first. She immediately jumps to her feet, and runs over. Her arms wraps around me tightly. “Sweetie. How are you holding up? We just heard when we got up.”
I told myself I wasn’t going to waste any more tears on the whole thing, but when Mom holds me like this, they start to flow again. I sniffle, wipe my eyes and cheeks impatiently. “Mom. Simon.”
Simon squeezes my hand.
I search their faces. All I find is understanding and compassion and love. And I’m so relieved and grateful that I can’t help but break down. I clutch my Mom harder, burying my face in her shoulder. My tears soak her shirt, but she only pulls me closer.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” My words come out muffled.
“It’s not your fault, sweetie.” Mom says.
“Of course not.” Simon pats me in the back. “It’s terrible this happened to you, Paige. You don’t deserve this.”
“Nobody does.” Mom finally pulls away to look at me. “Are you all right?”
“I’m okay.” I wasn’t until I saw them. But now my world makes sense again.
“Where’s Ryder?” Simon asks.
“Sleeping. He went to bed late.”
“I’m sure he was shocked.” Mom’s voice is placid. “I can’t imagine… The wedding is only three weeks away.”
“I know.” I pull my lips in. “But we may have to call it off.”
“Why?” Simon asks forcefully. “Is he blaming you?”