His jaw clenches.
Ihatethat the genuine look of surprise on his face softens it, makes him look far more attractive than he already is.
“What?”
I take a deep breath, trying to work out the best way to say this without directly begging him for the sake of my sister. Dad would only see it as weak. “If you care at all about your son’s mistakes not ruining my family, if you care about yours and your son’s name and reputations, if you care about not turning this entire day into a scandal, then marry me.”
Harry looks at me for a long moment.
The silence in the room hangs like a bomb seconds from detonating.
He exhales through his nose like he’s about to walk into war.
And I fight back the tears.
I just begged a man, nearly twenty years older than me, to marry me.
Chapter 2
Harry
My lungs feel like they’re being strangled, like the stagnant heat and hairspray and tension have deadened the air. It’s thick withthe kind of pressure you only feel in hospitals or courtrooms — places where lives are decided, where one wrong move changes everything. It crawls over my skin like static, burrowing into the spaces between my ribs.
Elena’s looking at me like I could be her savior.
Like I could fix this, like I’mexpectedto.
Her voice echoes in my head.Marry me.
My mouth tastes like copper.
Fuck.
Behind her, Ralph White is practically vibrating with the need to solidify a solution as if his actual life is on the line. His small, weedy body poised to strike if I say no.
Her mother, Gail, looks white as a ghost, and Elena’s sister is just staring at the back of her head like she’s gone insane.
There’s an expectation hanging in the air, a need for me to respond, and yet, it feels like my mouth isn’t quite working.
Elena swallows as she glances around at her family, then meets my gaze again. “Can we speak alone?”
I hesitate.
It’s not because I don’t want to.
It’s because Ido.
Too much.
I look at her, then at Ralph, noting the way his jaw clenches tight enough to fracture a tooth. He gives a small, sharp nod, like a man granting a privilege I’m not even asking for.
I don’t need his approval to speak to her.
“Okay,” I say, my voice coming out far too steady for the war raging inside of me.
She follows me out into the hallway, her heels clicking against the stone floor, each step slow, careful. We pass an open archway, and she pauses, staring at the guests dressed in navy and gold and cream waiting in the main chapel.
Her fingers tighten in the fabric of her dress.
