Somehow, the dress is ready for the wedding this Saturday.
I kept hoping that if it hadn’t been ready, then perhaps the wedding would be postponed.
“Too much?” I ask, feeling his eyes move over the gown.
He shakes his head. A wry smile cracks his features.
“Not at all.”
I bunch up the bottom, keeping the train from getting trampled on. “What’s up?” I ask, wondering why he’s knocking on my door in the afternoon and not at the gym with Luca.
“I wanted to talk to you. I have a proposition,” Ashton says, and I pinch my lips together, not liking the way this is sounding.
My displeasure must be obvious because he forces a smile.
“Relax,” Ashton holds up his hands in surrender. “I’m just trying to help you.”
I don’t trust his version of help.
“Help me?” I raise an eyebrow skeptically. “I don’t think you’re in the business of helping anyone, Ashton.”
He was there the night that I encountered the little boy.
I didn’t see him trying to help anyone but himself.
“I don’t think you should marry Luca. You should marry me instead.”
I nearly die of laughter.
Ashton can’t be serious.
My eyes water as the giggles spill out, until I realize he’s not laughing or making a joke.
“You’re crazy. Besides, his father insisted I marry Luca, his son would be mafia, I would be protected.” I wave my hand precariously through the air as if that explains away the last few months of chaos.
“His father has made other arrangements. He wants us to wed.”
“I don’t believe you,” I say and take a step back. “And you’re dating Nova!” I shake my head, feeling betrayed for all of us —Luca, Nova, and myself.
Ashton’s tone isn’t any less quiet or filled with any bit of remorse. “This wasn’t my idea.”
I can see the storm in his eyes, the conflicting emotions swirling across his face, his shoulders slumped, filled with defeat.
He’s not convincing me, and he’s certainly not in love with me.
“Then that’s a wonderful reason for the two of us to get hitched, because it wasn’t your idea,” I snap.
I reach for the zipper on my gown, wanting to rip it off. The thought of marrying anyone right now has my blood boiling and I’m finding it hard to breathe.
“Turn around!” I scold him as I loosen the material, find the zipper, and let it slink to the ground.
Ashton obeys, turning to the door, facing away from me.
I step out of the wedding dress, grabbing a robe and slipping it on quickly, not wanting to be undressed in his presence.
“We aren’t marrying. I don’t even know what’s gotten into you,” I say.
He continues to face the door, giving me more than enough privacy, not realizing that I’m done dressing. “Trust me, it wasn’t my idea. I’m falling for Nova.”
