Page 16 of Working for the Runaway Bride

“You know I’m not perfect.”

“This isn’t leaving the cap off the toothpaste, Carter.”

His mouth twists. “It wouldn’t have happened if you paid more attention to me.”

There it is. The blame. I should have expected it.

“You said you understood how busy I was with the end of the school year.”

“There’s always an excuse.”

“I’m a kindergarten teacher. The children need me.”

“I need things too.”

“You could have talked to me.”

“I tried.”

“When?”

“Every time I asked you to loosen up. Every time I suggested you wear something sexy instead of dressing like somebody’s grandmother.”

I look down at the pale blue cardigan over my dress. Suddenly, I’m aware of every button. Every inch of fabric. My sensible flat shoes and the faint smear of green marker on my wrist.

Brittany looked nothing like me. Maybe that was the point.

“I liked the way you dressed when we met,” he continues. “It was sweet. But I assumed you’d make more effort after we got engaged.”

“To become someone else?”

“To stop acting like a kindergarten teacher every second of the day.”

“I am a kindergarten teacher.”

“You know what I mean.”

I’m beginning to hate those words.

“No,” I say. “I don’t.”

“You aren’t spontaneous. You don’t want to go out. You don’t want to try anything new. You’re always tired, and when you aren’t working, you’re talking about work.”

“So you cheated on me.”

“I made a mistake.”

“Several mistakes, apparently.”

“Fine. Several.” He spreads his hands. “But I’m still willing to marry you.”

For a moment, I honestly believe I’ve misunderstood him. “You’re willing?”

“Yes.”

“After I caught you with another woman, you’re willing to marry me?”

He gives me a condescending smile. “I know you’re upset right now. I’m not going to hold it against you.”