I’ll lay all my cards on the table.
I want her. I want her forever. I want her to be mine—no one else’s. And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to her.
If she decides never to speak to me again, so be it. I’ll do the honorable thing and watch her walk away.
But she won’t walk away still believing in all these false impressions of who I am and what she means to me.
She’ll walk away knowing everything.
CHAPTER 45
Edward
The door swings opento the dressing room, and my mother’s sharp gaze meets mine, a flicker of scrutiny passing over her features before she arranges them into something softer.
“Darling,” she says smoothly, her hands flying to her mouth. “Oh my! How handsome you look.”
I nod in acknowledgement, stepping inside with my heart lodged firmly in my throat.
I know I can’t discuss things between Daisy and me in front of the bridal party, but I’ll try to take her to the side. Either way, she cannot ignore me today.
My eyes sweep the room.
She isn’t here.
Instead, my gaze lands on Sophia, standing in the center of the room, radiant in white lace and silk.
I stop, caught off guard by the sudden wave of emotion tightening in my chest. The little girl who used to tug at my sleeve in the dead of night, whispering that the house was full of ghosts,now stands before me, a bride.
“Sophia, you look stunning. Giles is a very fortunate man indeed.”
She offers me a smile in return, but it’s all wrong—strained and trembling at the edges, more of a grimace than the radiant joy a bride should wear.
I may not be well-versed in the intricacies of bridal parties, but even I can sense the odd tension permeating the room. A nervous energy clings to the bridesmaids, who flit around Sophia, smoothing her dress, whispering reassurances, shushing her trembling breaths.
And Daisy’s conspicuous absence only adds to my unease.
Without warning, Sophia dissolves into tears.
Imogen and Bernice freeze, their eyes wide with shock and concern.
I stride toward my sister. “What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head furiously, words breaking apart between ragged breaths. “I’m fine. Just nerves.”
Imogen, her face drawn tight with barely masked alarm, glances at me.
“Where’s Daisy?” I ask.
Sophia lifts her tear-streaked face. “Daisy isn’t coming.”
I stare at her, my pulse suddenly thundering in my ears, that cold thing in my chest turning to ice. “What?”
Sophia inhales shakily, pressing a hand to her mouth. “I-I told her it was best if she wasn’t maid of honor, but I never—I never meant—” Her voice breaks, another violent sob racking her body. “I didn’t mean for her to not come at all.”
I blink, the gravity of her words taking a moment to register. “You told her she wasn’t maid of honor anymore?”
My mother lets out a sharp sigh and has the audacity to say, “Darling, it’s for the best.”
