“What were you expecting to do?” I inquire just to drag this conversation along a bit longer and to see what resides in her stupid head. “Because I’ve been gone for about a week now.”
A bit of relief floods across her face as if she won a point in this battle with me coming along and following through with these so-called commitments that I never signed my name to.
“We’ve already said that you were upset about all the plans we made and how everything was missed due to your unexpected illness that you needed a minute to recover and reorganize things. The wedding has been rescheduled for Saturday.”
It’s Thursday.
“Saturday,” I repeat in a shell-shocked daze because…I’m married.
I’m married to another man.
I’mmarried.
“Yes,” Catherine declares haughtily as if she’s gained another point. “We have everything the same. The same cake you wanted, the food, the music, everything.”
I don’t know what that means because I don’t know half the shit she ordered and went over me on.
Regardless, it still doesn’t matter, because I’m not marrying Bobby.
I would nevermarry Bobby.
I would never date or forgive Bobby.
I’m done with Bobby.
Even if there was no Bronte, Istillwouldn’t subject myself to such an asshole who didn’t care what he did or how he wasted my time.
“Meirna, I missed you,” Bobby cajoles, knowing damn well I’m not on board. “Baby, I amsosorry all this happened to you. We can push the wedding back another week, if?—”
“We’ve already made theannouncement, Bobby,” Catherine scolds with a glower his way. “Another delay would make things worse.”
Welp.
There’s going to be a delay, a standing up, anI’m not showing up to that circusand, as I mentioned, I’m already legally married.
“I don’t want to stress Meirna out more than she already is,” Bobby inserts, returning her glower with one of his own. “She’s been through enough, mother. All these lies and now she’s back when she was held against her will. It’s medieval.”
“I was going for feral,” another male voice prompts, causing all three of our necks to snap in the direction of it but I’m the only one who’s thankful and put at ease.
Bronte stands a few feet away, near the reception desk, dressed in his signature all-black suit, looking like a million dollars that his twin next to me doesn’t have.
Rude, I know.
I feel Bobby’s demeanor shift from concerned ex-fiancé to enraged ex-boyfriend within seconds.
Catherine is out of my peripheral, but I bet she’s about to shit her pants in two seconds. But I’m soaked in by light green eyes and a look of sheer calm from Bronte as he stares at me like he can’t bear to do anything else.
“You have theballsto show up here and face me?” Bobby leers, prompting the reality of how much of an entitled shit he is. “You need toleave.”
“I came for my wife,” Bronte says matter-of-factly, not bothering to see the look on his brother’s face when he states the facts. “You ready, Daydream?”
“Daywhat?” Bobby carps out, making this so much harder for himself than it needs to be.
He didn’t need to come here.
He didn’t need to talk to me or ask for forgiveness because he isn’t going to be getting it anytime soon.
In fact, I was completely okay with never having to think about it again.
