Page 13 of Working for the Runaway Bride

I look at her. Her expression shifts from defensive to uncertain.

“We’re getting married next week,” I say.

She turns to Carter. “You said the wedding was off.”

“It might be if she keeps acting like this.”

My breath catches.

Brittany stares at him. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Oh, don’t pretend you suddenly care,” he says.

“I wouldn’t have come here if I knew you were still marrying her.”

“I told you it was complicated.”

“You told me she was obsessive and wouldn’t accept the breakup.”

I wait for Carter to deny it. He doesn’t.

Something inside me cracks. “Is that what you’ve been telling people?” I whisper.

He drags a hand through his hair. “I needed you to give me space.”

“We live together.”

“Exactly.”

“And we’re supposed to be married in seven days.”

“You keep saying that like I forgot.”

“It seems like you did.”

“I didn’t forget.” He buttons his shirt with quick, angry movements. “I just needed to have some fun before I’m tied down for the rest of my life.”

“Tied down?”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, Carter. I don’t.”

“Everyone does this before they get married.”

“No, they don’t.”

“Men do.”

I feel sick.

Brittany shoves the second foot into her shoe. “I’m leaving.”

“Good,” I say.

Carter turns on me. “Stop being a bitch.”

The room goes completely silent. I’ve never heard him call me that before. He’s called me sensitive. Needy. Dramatic. Naive. He likes to laugh while he says those things, as though they’re affectionate jokes and I’m the difficult one if I don’t find them funny.