I’d desperately wanted alone time with Carter before the rehearsal, but the scene Rich set changed all of that—changed my whole mood to the point where I practically avoided Carter for the short time we were alone together. When I saw Rich before dinner, I was torn between wanting to hide and wanting to scream at him. I did neither. I’m stuck, and he knows it.
He smiled and looked me over like a lover would. I wanted to claw those eyes out.
From his devoted-boyfriend post beside me, Carter didn’t miss a thing. The meal started with him flashing me knowing smiles and touching my hand and bare shoulder at any given opportunity. But I couldn’t focus on him and spent my time watching the faces around us and bracing for Rich to drop a bomb on my life. The more I withdrew from Carter’s touches, the more I failed to return his sweet gestures, the less he tried. We spent the last two courses silent beside each other, like a couple of strangers.
Carter frowns in Rich’s direction. I’m guessing he’s clued in to who’s responsible for this shift between us. “Is everything okay?”
The waiter leans between us to serve dessert, and I smile at him and wait for him to serve Carter before I reply. “Everything’s fine. Why?”
He shakes his head, but I can tell he wants to push the issue.
As I poke at my lemon torte, my phone buzzes with a text.
I pull it from my purse and flinch. It’s from Rich. Shit. I need to block this damn new number. Should I do it now or wait until the weekend is over? If I block him now will he do worse than harass me with old pictures?
Before I can decide, I read the text.
I learned some interesting things about Carter today. We need to talk. My room. Tonight. Eleven. Only tell Carter if you want him to see my photo collection.
I shove my phone back into my purse before Carter sees.
My gaze drifts to Rich as everyone finishes their dessert. What does he think he knows? He catches me looking and winks, his grin suggesting lovers’ secrets and quiet promises.
I hate him so much.
Carter touches my wrist, and I jump. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks softly.
“Yeah.” I force a smile. “Fine. A little chilly.” He starts to shrug out of his coat, but I put a hand on his arm. “Don’t. I’m fine.”
He studies me for a long beat before lifting a hand to my face and cupping my jaw. “Don’t shut me out, okay? You don’t have to do this alone.”
The words rock me so hard that my throat goes thick, and I have to swallow back tears. I feel so damn alone.
I don’t want to lie to Carter. But I don’t want him to know the truth, either. There’s the rub.
“Carter!” Liam calls from the opposite side of the patio. “Come here. I want you to meet my cousin.”
Carter nods at him then searches my face one more time before pulling away.
I can’t sit still anymore, so I’m happy to follow everyone’s lead and leave the table. I weave through the small crowd and step into the dim sitting area just off the patio where vines climb white trellises up the side of a gazebo.
Carter’s words echo in my head. “You don’t have to do this alone.” But don’t I? What’s the alternative? What would Carter think of me if he saw those pictures? If he knew what I did?
I’m not left alone with my thoughts for long before my sister joins me. “Are you and Carter fighting?”
I shake my head. “We’re fine. Why?”
“You looked distant all through dinner. I thought maybe he said something that upset you.” She bumps my shoulder with hers. “Let me know if you need me to beat him up.”
I snort. “That wouldn’t be a fair fight.”
“Hey, I can hold my own.”
I laugh. “Oh, I know you can. It wouldn’t be fair because Carter wouldn’t fight back.”
She sighs and watches him talk to her fiancé across the patio before turning back to me. “You’re really okay?”
The words are right there on my tongue: I hate that Rich is here. He ruined my whole life, and I’ll never be able to escape him as long as he’s welcome with our family.
My sister would tell him to leave right now if I asked her. And then she would corner me for an explanation I can’t give.
Before I can decide on a response to her question, Saanvi stiffens and folds her arms. “Look who’s finally here.”
I follow her gaze to the bustle of the aunts’ excited squeals as Sabrina steps onto the patio. My cousin is as striking as ever with her long red hair and perfect ivory skin. I was so jealous of her when we were growing up. She was the classic American beauty that adolescent me longed to be. It took me until I was in college to see the beauty of my olive skin, dark hair, and dramatic curves.