“Because… you… you became my world.”
My heart stopped and I lost the power of speech.
“My God, Emma. Do you realize what you could’ve started? What if the story reaches the US? What if the press comes poking around the town… around the greenhouse?”
How had that thought not crossed my mind? I prided myself on being able to think three steps ahead in any situation, but I was so blinded by my misguided need to protect Dan that I didn’t think. Damn, how did Max get this done so fast?Because she’s Maxima Clarke, I answered myself,and she’s really fucking good at her job.
“I can try to get the story killed,” I stammered. “I can talk to your family at the wedding. I can explain every—”
“No, Emma.” Dan shook his head. “It’s far too late for that. I’ll have to deal with this mess when I go to London for the wedding.”
“Whenwego to London for the wedding?” I whispered.
“Emma, we have a lot of shit to sort through,” he said sternly, “and to add this?” He shook his head. “I still haven’t begun to wrap my head around this. I need time.”
“Dan, please, let—”
“You fucking betrayed me, Emma. I trusted you. How am I supposed to introduce you to my family? This is the woman to whom I told my deepest secrets, and she didn’t wait a full day before she decided to tell the world? Or should I introduce you as the woman who might leave me at any moment for her rich fiancé?”
“What?” My face snapped up to meet his. “I told you that Teddy and I are over.”
“Yeah, Emma, but I’m quickly discovering that your words and actions are two vastly different things.”
“That’s not fair.”
“You don’t get to talk to me about fair when my mum is crying because reporters are camped outside of her kitchen window at three in the morning.”
“I’m sorry,” I managed to say in a croak. Dan shook his head at me before slowly backing away, turning, and leaving me standing in the middle of the festival grounds, holding a caramel apple that I would never eat.
Just as he disappeared from view, the fireworks started.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Oh, shut the fuck up, King Richard!” I moaned in my empty bedroom. The last thing I wanted was the ever-present reminder from that feathered tyrant that time didn’t stop. There wasn’t a way to magically freeze it so I’d never have to face the consequences of my actions. It would be even better to rewind it, to before I’d called Max, or before Teddy showed up in town, or even, perhaps, before I’d set foot in town because then I wouldn’t feel like my heart was being squeezed in my chest. My fight with Dan kept playing in my head in a never-ending loop. The look of betrayal on his face was burned into my memory.
It had been many years since I’d cried myself to sleep, but since I arrived at the farm, it had become more of a common occurrence, so I was completely prepared for the red-eyed, swollen-face disaster that greeted me in the bathroom mirror the morning after the festival. I was also still in the clothes I’d had on yesterday and had forgotten to tie up my hair the night before to complete the picture.
After splashing some water on my face, mostly to alleviate the dry and sore ache in my eyes, I flopped onto my bed and grabbed my phone.
“Hey, girl!” Max’s cheerful voice called from my phone screen. “Did your girl come through or did your girl come through?” She let out a high-pitched, triumphant laugh that made my eyes well up with tears.
“Max,” I managed to whisper.
“Em, what’s wrong?” Her cheerful tone immediately dropped to one of concern.
“The story, Max.” I cleared my throat and spoke again. “Do you think you can kill the story?”
“Baby, no,” she said, “it’s too late; the story has already spread. I pulled out all of the stops for this one. Plus, Dan’s ex-boss, this Wesley guy, is a beloved figure in the UK. He had some kind of TV show about flowers and plants that has aired almost every week for decades. He’s also dying of a terminal disease, which is why the story was able to get traction so quickly. Emma, what happened?”
I launched into a tearful recounting of last night’s events. I didn’t tell Max about Teddy’s impromptu visit to town because, despite having had forty-eight hours to process the information, I still couldn’t bring myself to speak the words out loud.
“Oh, shit, Em. I’m so sorry.” She let out a sigh. “And you haven’t talked to him at all?”
“No,” I croaked.
“Well, this guy sounds like a good dude,” she offered.
“He’s the best.” I sniffled.
