“Maybe not,” Pierce says.
“That is what you told me the other night. Has it changed?” I try to keep the growing frustration from bubbling over.
Pierce brushes me off. “The store is closed.”
“We don’t know that. She loves that place. She’s not going to want to come to England with me.”
Pierce pulls his phone out of his pocket, opens the photos app, and shoves it in my face. There’s a big orange ‘CLOSED’ sign on the front of her store.
Fuck.
“Can they actually do this?” I ask Pierce.
“Fuck if I know. I know nothing about American politics.”
I drop down into the chair next to Charlotte, shoving a rough hand through my hair. This is the last thing I want to be talking about right now.
Thinking about Layla only makes the ache in my chest grow.
And seeing her at the wedding when I can’t be with her? All eyes will no doubt be on Gemma, but with the way I’ve seen this town gossip? There’ll be some pretty cutting glares thrown Layla’s way too.
“Listen, your pride might be wounded now. But is that any reason to give up the person you love?” Charlotte asks.
“Who does Uncle Simon love?” Jane jumps onto Charlotte’s lap.
“Aunt Layla.”
“She’s really pretty. She looks like a princess,” she tells me.
“Pierce, will you take her to get her basket for the flowers?”
“What are daddies for?” He lifts Jane into his arms and claps me on the shoulder before getting Mary and heading back to the ceremony site.
“You need a drink.”
Charlotte hands me the flask tucked into her purse.
“You know there is an open bar, right?”
It doesn’t stop me from taking a swig of the scotch inside.
“I brought it downstairs for you.”
I blow out a breath. “Am I really that big of a sad sack right now?”
“You’re heartbroken.” Charlotte squeezes my arm. “The way I look at it, you have two choices. You can either man up and stay here with her and help her through this, or go crawling back to London like a wanker.”
Christ, Pierce has rubbed off on her.
I shake my head, staring out at the mountains beyond. Guests are starting to arrive for the wedding. There’s not a cloud in the sky. It’s the perfect day for a wedding.
“Can’t I just go back home and lick my wounds in peace?”
I don’t deserve to be heartbroken when it was my fault to begin with. We would’ve spent the night together before she left to help her sister get ready for her wedding.
“I didn’t take you for someone who gives up, Belvy,” Charlotte says.
A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth, hearing Charlotte call me by my last name just like Layla does.
