In my darkest, deepest nightmares I couldn’t have dreamed this up.
It wasn’t the Labor Day party. He wasn’t saying sorry.
I grasped a chair to keep from stumbling. This was our wedding.
But it wasn’t for us.
Fifty-Five
STORY
* * *
My breath left me in gasps as I tried to suck in more air. I stumbled again, falling into one of the elegantly decorated chairs and knocking it over. Heads turned, including Grayson’s. His eyes zeroed on me.
There’d been a time when that piercing blue gaze made my knees weak; now it just made my lungs collapse.
He took strides down the aisle, and I backed away, knocking into more chairs. He was too fast, and I was too out of control.
More people were looking. I backed away farther, tripping over some kind of lace or tulle decoration, bringing down a few chairs with me. I landed with a thwack, ass throbbing, head ringing when the back of a chair slammed into my face.
But still, for a minute, I was safely shrouded under their protection. My vision was obscured. I was safe in shadows, and I prayed for the earth to open up and swallow me whole.
Then Grayson reached in and gripped my wrist, tearing me from the mess of tulle and flowers and chairs.
“You’ve made quite an entrance.”
“You’re marrying her?” I shoved him off, and he grabbed my biceps instead. Probably for the best, as I was still unsteady, trembling.
“That’s how fiancés work,” he responded with a bored tone that cut me.
“Ass.” I tried to rip myself away to no avail. “You know what I mean. I thought the wedding wasn’t until next Christmas.”
Grayson didn’t answer, but his grip on my bicep tightened painfully.
This was why Lottie was so upset.
You have no idea what today is, do you?
Why did he send a dress, a white dress?
I thought we had time. I thought I had time. None of it felt real. Until…until now.
“Why are you doing this?” I searched his eyes.
Do you not love me?
Did you ever?
“Next year, today, doesn’t make any fucking difference.” He sighed deeply—I was a chore. I’d become a chore again..
“What aren’t you telling me?”
I punched his chest, but he didn’t so much as stumble. A few servants turned our way, but when Grayson shot them looks, they busied themselves with the decorating.
“Why did you give me that dress?” I yelled, so loud everyone couldn’t help but look, all turning to watch Story explode into whatever pieces remained.
He dragged me out of the room, back into the halls.