Page 132 of The Image of You

Those words broke my heart.

* * *

The elevator ride down was quiet. I held Ally close, worried over her unnatural stillness. She hadn’t said a word since her mother brushed past us, pausing only to open the door and indicate with a haughty wave of her arm we needed to leave. The quiet click of the door shutting behind us made Ally flinch.

Sarah had shown her true colors to us all. Her need for social standing and wealth was more important than her daughter—a child she never wanted in the first place. She allowed Ronald to take out his deep-seated bitterness on Ally like some twisted equal exchange. Her life for his. To him, Ally meant nothing, and Sarah allowed it. Because she was punishing Ally for being born.

I hoped one day she would rot in hell.

Bradley and I glanced at each other, no animosity in our eyes, united in a common worry. He cleared his throat.

“Alexandra.”

She turned her head, gazing calmly at him.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

Our gazes locked again as the doors opened. We didn’t speak as we crossed the lobby and went outside.

Bradley turned to us. “I’ll handle the details of canceling everything. You don’t have to think about it.”

“We appreciate that. Thank you,” I replied, surprised at his offer.

Ally dug into her purse, pulling out a small notebook. “This has all the information in it. You might want to start with Gretchen, the wedding planner. She can take it from there.” A small grimace passed over her face. “I’m sure she’ll be grateful she doesn’t have to deal with my mother anymore. She isn’t, ah, easy to handle.” Then she smiled. A strange, vacant smile that made me shudder. “I guess neither of us has to deal with her after today.”

“Ally—”

“I’m just stating the facts, Adam.”

I didn’t like the sound of her voice—controlled and removed.

“Alexandra—” Bradley started.

“Don’t call me that. I always hated how formal it was.”

“What would you like me to call you? Ally?”

“No,” she said sharply. “That’s Adam’s name for me. You can call me Alex. My friends call me Alex.”

“Are we still friends?”

I was shocked when she suddenly drew back her hand and slapped him. Once. Twice.

Bradley blinked but didn’t move. He barely flinched. I had a feeling the impact of her hand hardly registered. His face was abnormally hard. I only hoped she didn’t hurt her hand.

“That’s for lying to me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to see you again.”

“I understand.”

She turned and walked away, stopping after a few steps. She looked back. “Have a good life, Bradley. I hope Calgary is everything you want it to be. Don’t call me.” She paused and cleared her throat. “We’re going away. Maybe we can talk after that. I’ll think about it.”

She hurried over to the car and slid in, slamming the door behind her.