I close my eyes and knock my head back against the brick wall a few times.
I can’t do this. I never should have let this go on this long.
I’ve had a healthy dose of doubts leading up to today, but last night, something broke inside me. Specifically, when Damien and my father cornered me at our rehearsal dinner and told me that I would be quitting my job with the Monarchs effective immediately.
Now that I’m to become Mrs. Fischer, the wife of a New York senator with clear goals of becoming the next governor and eventual president of the United States, I won’t have time to entertain a “silly job in a sport meant for children.”
They didn’t ask. They informed me.
If they’d asked for anything else, I would have done it. I always have.
But the Monarchs are my family. The one place I feel truly at home. With people who love me unconditionally.
And I can’t leave them. I won’t. But I don’t know what to do. The clock is ticking, and I’m running out of time.
I hear fast footsteps headed my way, and my eyes fly open. With my luck, I’ll get mugged before meeting my groom.
For a second I consider that it might be a great excuse to postpone the wedding.
My thoughts snap back to the present as I realize that it’s my best friend, Luke. He’s here, and he’s closing the distance between us.
“Y-you came. You actually made it.” I hiccup.
“What’s wrong? Did he do something to you?” His eyes scan my body, looking for the source of my distress.
“I’m okay. Just taking a little walk around the block. Apparently, it’s my wedding day. Can you believe that?” My smile must look deranged.
“Daisy girl, talk to me. What do you want to do?” His warm, calloused hands squeeze my bare upper arms, and I sigh deeply.
I can breathe again.
“If only it were that easy.”
“Try me. I’m going to ask you one more time. What. Do. You. Want?” he asks through gritted teeth.
I force my breathing to match his as silence surrounds us.
No longer can I make out the sounds of honking yellow cabs or pedestrians rushing their way back to work after lunch.
It’s just Luke and me. And the answer to his question.
“I don’t want to marry him,” I say on an exhale.
“You don’t want to marry him?” he parrots.
I manage to shake my head.
He steps back, releasing his hold on me. His warmth is gone, and the tightness in my chest returns.
He runs his hands over his thick beard and slowly starts to nod. “All right.”
“What do you mean, all right? Everything is far from all right. I have five minutes to get my ass in there.” I start to panic again.
He steps closer. “I’m going to make this real simple for you, Daisy.” He cradles my face in his hands, his glacial blue eyes searing deep into my soul. “You’re not getting married today.”
“I’m not?”
He shakes his head.
