Poppy and Donovan were going on more public outingstogether, and I wanted to ask if she was okay, but anytime I tried, she tucked tail and ran. I knew she wasn’t, though. I could see it in the down slope of her shoulders and the way she wore her clothes like armor now. Every outfit was dark and… murderous. She looked like a mafia queen, and I didn’t know if it was all for show or because that was the persona she was about to don. I knew without a doubt that I needed to heal fully, I needed to be able to kill him before she was shackled to him for all eternity. I had to do something. I couldn’t just sit here for the rest of my days and let her down.
Marta turned at the door and handed Poppy a long list. “These are all the things you need to prepare before the rehearsal dinner. Make sure Jane wears lavender, it’s such a pretty color, and I know you don’t really want your mother in attendance, but it’s important that she’s there.” Marta patted Poppy’s cheek, and she didn’t move a muscle. She’d gotten good at this.
As soon as the door closed behind the glorified babysitter, Poppy slumped down, practically sagging in her skin. She let out a long sigh as she read over the list.
“Poppy,” I whispered, and she immediately straightened. “Don’t do that with me. Don’t pretend with me.”
She turned around, and my heart jumped into my throat. She looked like she’d been emotionally beaten down one too many times. I couldn’t handle it.
“I have to,” she closed her eyes for a brief moment. “Because if I don’t, I’ll make a mistake, and I can’t risk that when it comes to Donovan. Not again.”
“At least tell me what you’re planning,” I tried again.
Her tired eyes met mine. “I’m planning to survive.” Something in her voice broke me, and all I wanted to do was close the distance between us and hold her, but I knew better.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Poppy
There were barelytwo weeks away from the wedding, and I could hardly breathe. Every moment of my time was filled with last-minute decisions that weren’t made by me, but I needed to be there so I could at least look the part. Dress fittings for Jane, shoe appointments for me, and trial runs on hair and makeup. I was exhausted, and I could see it in my eyes. They were dull and sad. This wasn’t supposed to be like this. I should have been happy to get married, but I wasn’t. The countdown was on until I would bury a knife in my husband, and I still didn’t know if I could do it.
Yes, I trusted the grannies. I knew they would help me, but I was also terrified. The Madden’s wouldn’t go easy on me. They would know. They would come for me.
My body sagged into the couch as my mind went a mile a minute, going over all the last-minute details. I was so distracted by everything that didn’t matter that when the doorbell rang, I missed it. I was just so lost.
Emeline answered the door, and three beaming, gorgeous women burst through the door. Audrey, Carina, and Scarlett grinned at me from the entryway. “We heard you didn’t have any friends.”
“Which is really sad,” Audrey added.
“So we figured no one planned you a bachelorette, which is stupid because if you’re going to be paired with that dick for the rest of your life, you should at least have a good time before you walk down the aisle,” Scarlett puffed out her cheeks.
Audrey held up two bottles of alcohol while Carina held up her breast pump, and it was such a comical sight, that I snorted. Scarlett clapped her hands together as if that was enough of ayesfor them. From the few interactions I had with them… I knew they wouldn’t take no for an answer anyway. I liked it. I craved it.
“Are we going out or?” I looked between all three of them nervously. I didn’t think Donovan would like it very much if I was seen with the Cristof wives, so I prayed they had an alternate plan.
Audrey made a face. “Donovan is an over-controlling prick; we would never get away with that, and our men would never let us be put into situations where that dummy could retaliate.”
Carina chewed on her bottom lip. “I’d also rather not pump in a nightclub, that sounds awful.”
“What’s the plan then?”
Scarlett picked her bag up off of the floor andjingled it. “I’ve never painted anyone’s nails before, but I bought everything that looked promising online.”
Carina did a little shimmy. “Drunken pedicures is the best time! We can also watch movies of men who rip their shirts off.”
Audrey waggled her brows. “Or we could order some strippers.”
Scarlett turned scarlet and laughed. “Do you really think our men would let that happen?”
Audrey giggled. “They don’t have to know!”
Scarlett’s eyes widened. “Audrey!”
“What?” Audrey shrugged, utterly unbothered. “I’m just saying—if any of us deserve a little sinful entertainment before being force-married to Satan in a suit, it’s Poppy.”
Heat crawled up my neck. “No strippers,” I said quickly. The last thing I needed was Donovan finding out and using it as an excuse to make an example out of someone. “Please. I don’t want anyone getting hurt because of me.”
All three women exchanged a look I didn’t understand—something like affection and pity wrapped together.
