Every Little Piece of Me (Orchid Valley 1)

“Shit, Brinley. I’m sorry,” he says, his face crumpling. “I’m gonna work so fucking hard that you won’t ever have to make that choice. I’ll be the kind of man he wants for his daughter. I promise.”

Chapter Twenty

Brinley

Present day

Even after Marston left town, the south dock at Lake Blackledge remained my favorite spot for when I needed to think or be alone. It doesn’t disappoint today. The sun sparkles on the water, and the sound of it lapping against the shore washes away my fears.

Right after Roman picked Cami up for their trip, I made the call to Mrs. Wright to let her know I wasn’t getting married and therefore wouldn’t have the funds to purchase The Orchid before her June deadline. She’s done so much to give me the chance to buy it, and it didn’t seem fair to put it off any longer. She was understanding and kind, just like she’s been for years, but there was no offer to hold off on selling, no suggestion that she’d consider anything but a cash offer. Ending the call felt like closing the door on my dream, and I came straight out here. I’ve been staring out at the water ever since.

In truth, I never expected my parents to agree to give me my trust after I told them I was calling off the wedding. I wasn’t even sure it was an option, and even if it had been, I knew they’d say no, but I had to ask. This way I’ll never have to wonder.

Tonight when I meet the girls at Smithy’s, I’ll break the news to them, and when I’m back at The Orchid on Monday, I’ll tell the rest of the staff. Maybe we’ll get lucky and nothing will change, but I know they won’t blame me if anything does. I’m annoyed with myself for even being disappointed. What kind of privileged jerk am I to even have a trust to ask for early? Any frustration I feel about having my parents keep it from me is tempered with annoyance at myself for relying on my family’s money so much even now.

Gravel crunches behind me. Somehow, I know Marston’s here before I ever turn to look at him, and his presence is a balm to my battered heart.

“It’s as beautiful as ever,” he says, lowering himself to sit beside me on the top of the cool concrete ramp. He’s scruffier than usual today, as if he didn’t bother shaving this morning, and I have to fight the instinct to reach out and run my fingertips over that dark stubble.

“I never knew about this spot until you took me here on homecoming night,” I admit. “And then it became my favorite place to think and brood when I was sad.”

He studies me, lips parted, eyes searching. He probably thinks I’m sad about my breakup.

I am, sort of. I’m sad I hurt Julian. I’m sad I didn’t know myself well enough to see I was making a major mistake, and sad it took an impulsive marriage to a man I can’t have to open my eyes. I’m sad I’ve spent years patting myself on the back for my independence and for going after my dreams with hard work and not my family’s money, only to realize I’ve been leaning on the promise of it all this time. “I’m meeting up with the girls tonight, and I want to shake off this funk before I see them.”

“Do you want to talk it out?” Marston asks softly.

I wrap my arms around my legs and rest my chin on my knees. “I spoke with my parents today to let them know we’re canceling the wedding.”

Marston’s mouth draws into a thin line. “I wish you would’ve let me go with you.”

I huff out a breath. “If you’d been with me, it would’ve been an even bigger disaster.”

“I take it the news of our marriage didn’t go over well?”

I wince. “I didn’t tell them about that.”

He cuts his eyes to me. “Why not?”

I shrug. “It’d only make everything worse. I didn’t see a reason to upset them over something. . .”

“Something you plan to undo as soon as possible,” he says. There’s no judgment in his voice, only a quiet resignation.

“Those plans haven’t changed. I told you last night.” I just need to figure out why I can’t bring myself to fill out the paperwork and then get over it.

He stands and tilts his head back, closing his eyes and lifting his face to the sun. “You always wanted to pretend you didn’t care what they thought, but even now you let them dictate your life.”

“I don’t.” I stand too and step in front of him so we’re facing each other. “They haven’t dictated my life in a long time. You don’t get to pretend nothing changed just because you weren’t around to see it.”