His voice is so full of hurt and anger that it stuns me silent for a moment.
“Isaid, what do you want?”
“Ant, sorry. I’m—I’m at a loss for how to explain this, only that Gael overheard something that he wasn’t meant to hear.”
“Because you were going to… what? Make him your dirty secret while you married some unsuspecting lesbian from Manchester?”
“No, because I was lying to my father to get him to tell me everything. I’m trying to fix things for my sister, I’m trying fix things for Clara—”
“Who the fuck is Clara and why do I give a shit about her?”
It’s not the right moment, but I adore how vicious Ant is willing to be for Gael. He would sacrifice his life for his cousin, and he would absolutely take mine for harming him.
“She’s the lesbian from Manchester. I’m making sure that she’s not forced into any agreements with my family.”
“Oh.” He pauses. “Then what about Gael?”
“I need him to know that he’s the only person I have ever and will ever want to marry. Please believe me, Ant. I despise deceit, and only ever use it in the service of the ones I love.”
“You love him?” Ant’s voice has lost the edge of rage, but not quite the sense of disbelief.
“I adore him and would sacrifice my entire world for him, Ant.”
“If you’re lying—”
“Then sic Anders and that rather terrifying friend of his on me. The one from New York.”
“Hopper is the friend. And you should know that Hopper’s billionaire boyfriend bought him his own personal crematorium because they were running out of places to hide the bodies.”
I gulp. “If I’m lying, call him first.”
14
GAEL
When I finally land in Austin, I’m more wrung out and heartbroken than I’ve ever felt before in my life. My connection to LaGuardia was delayed, and then the flight was diverted due to bad weather. After sitting on the tarmac in Dallas for two hours, we finally made the short flight to Austin.
It’s wet and miserable outside, hovering above the freezing mark because that’s what Texas weather does. I just want to grab an Uber and go home to the warmth of my family.
I walk through the concourse and start my way down the escalator to the luggage and pickup area. I’m about halfway down when I recognize the flop of blond hair.
Tolly, holding a handmade sign that saysI’m Sorryin shaky block letters.
Glancing up behind me, I calculate if I could somehow make it past the dozens of people streaming onto the escalator with their kids and parcels and suitcases. Stuck, I set my jaw as the escalator inexorably draws me closer to him.
Stopping in front of him, my feet are bolted to the ground as tired travelers stream around us.
“How did you get here before me?”
He takes me by the elbow and moves us to a spot under the escalator. Setting the sign at his feet, he cups my shoulders, holding me until my eyes meet his. In them, I find the sincerity I’ve always seen, and I don’t know how to make it make sense.
“Your flights were delayed, and I have access to a private jet.”
I drop my chin to my chest. “But you don’t have me. Not after you negotiated that woman’s future, Tolly. I don’t know how you could do that, given what you’ve seen. Given what they did to Ant…”
I let my words trail off as the timed airport announcement goes off.
“Please do not leave your luggage unattended,”says the pleasantly monotone voice.
