“I changed my mind about when I wanted a family shortly after the wedding, and I don’t blame her for being mad about it. The position I put her in was…not okay of me. I was wrong. And then I dug my feet in andkeptbeing wrong.”
There issomuch more to this story.
But it doesn’t matter. He’s leaving. I’m staying here. Even if my friends would lose their minds at me meeting Jonas Rutherford—well, my friends that were my friendslast weekwho rightfully might never want to see me again after I picked Chandler over them time and again for what feels like half my life—I don’t need Jonas’s side of things.
He steadies himself against a wall, scowls like he’s trying to perfect the expression for his next role, and gingerly makes his way to the sofa to sit and put his head in his hands.
“I know I don’t know you,” he says, “but if it helps, from what I saw in that video, you dodged a bullet, and I’m glad you get to be somewhere quiet for a while.”
I lean back against the wall. “Or I was stupid to think I could love him enough to make him change.”
He squints at me, still rubbing his own temples. “You’ve watched one too many Razzle Dazzle films, haven’t you?”
That shouldn’t be funny.
It truly shouldn’t.
But for the first time since I left my groom at the altar after finally confronting him about one of many things I pretended were just human imperfection instead of completelywrong, I laugh.
And it’s an honest laugh.
I’m not faking it for him.
“Probably,” I concede. “But I also…I just like to believe everyone’s doing the best they can. And give them the benefit of the doubt. And—”
Dammit.
My eyes get hot again.
But I need to say it out loud. Not likeJonas Freaking Rutherfordwill remember this.
“And I thought he was the best I could do,” I finish.
His head jerks up, which is clearly uncomfortable if I’m reading his face right.
It says:Shouldn’t have done that. I’m gonna puke again.
“It’s okay,” I say quickly. “You don’t have to tell me I can do better. I don’twantto do better. I’m off dating. I’m off relationships. I’m off—well, honestly, I think I’m off being gaslit, except I don’t think I’ll notice the next time it happens either, which is why I’m off dating and relationships.”
“You need to meet my brother’s girlfriend,” he says.
I laugh again, but this one’s sheerhe does not mean that.
“You do,” he insists. “She had the balls to divorce her husband because he didn’t appreciate her. Everyone thinks she’s a naïve country bumpkin who can’t navigate a black-tie dinner, but she slays. Every time. If Begonia and her dog can live in my world, I know you can get back into yours.”
“But did she betray everyone in your world?” I whisper.
“How did you betray them?”
“I always took Chandler’s side and that made my brother and one of my very best friends get hurt. Badly. And if he hurt people that close to me, he probably hurt so many more people than I can begin to guess.”
He glances around the sitting area, shakes his head, grabs it like he’s trying to stop his brains from sloshing around in his skull, and then blows out a short breath. “You haven’t left this villa since you got here?”
“I havereallyhad enough of people.” The airport was an absolute nightmare. Whispers. Weird looks. Gasps and points. I told myself I was being paranoid and nobody knew who I was. But then someone asked for a selfie with me. Someone else said Chandler’s name. I walked into the bathroom and found a group of women gathered around a phone while the sound of my own voice screeching at Chandler bounced off the walls.
That’s her. Did you see her? She’s here. She’s alone. I wonder where she’s going?
The people who didn’t know who I was were quickly filled in.
