Page 103 of Runaway Bride’s Husband

“Yeah?” Marcus finally frowned, apparently only now realizing that what we were talking about was a lot more than nothing. “He did earn it, don’t you think? He just didn’t want it. He never even thought about taking it, which is stupid, I know. We would’ve paid any other wedding planner for their services, but⁠—”

“I’m sorry,” I said suddenly, cutting him off. “Can you repeat that?”

“Repeat what?”

“The part where Ryan didn’t take the money you offered him.”

Marcus frowned. “He didn’t take the money we offered him?”

“Yeah, that’s the part.” My mouth went dry. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Marcus squinted down at me, thoroughly confused. “I thought you knew.”

“I didn’t.”

This whole time, I’d believed Ryan had done everything he had for the money. That had been the deciding factor when I’d ended things with him and agreed to settle down like my parents had insisted. I’d taken it as proof that Ryan didn’t have feelings for me and that he’d never cared about what I wanted so much as that he was making it happen so he could get to the big payday at the end.

“Excuse me,” I finally managed, taking a big step back as my heart started sinking further and further. “I need to run to the bathroom before we sit down for dinner.”

Marcus blinked a couple times. “Oh. Okay. Yeah.”

Cathy’s gaze swept across my face, concern slowly furrowing her brow. “Are you okay? You’re looking a little pale all of a sudden. Do you want me to come with you? If it’s a headache, I might have something in my purse.”

“No, I’m okay. I probably just need a glass of water after all the wine and champagne.” Without any more of an explanation, I spun on my heels and strode across the lawn, reeling over everything I’d just learned.

All this time, I’d thought he didn’t want me. That was the only reason I’d said yes to the wedding. I hadn’t wanted to end up like Viola and my grandfather, clinging to love sixty or seventy years from now when my love had been unreciprocated anyway.

I hadn’t wanted to look back and regret spending my entire life yearning for a man who didn’t even have those kinds of feelings for me. I’d thought I was calling it off before he could develop them. I’d thought many things, actually. Not all of them rational, logical, or reasonable, but I’d been heartbroken, convinced I was protecting both myself and, in a way, him. But if he wasn’t doing it for the money? Oh, God. What have I done?

I kept walking until I found a quiet, empty sitting room in the very back corner of the old manor house. Slipping inside, I shut the door behind me and pulled out my phone with trembling hands, scrolling until I found Ryan’s number.

For a long minute, I just stood there, staring at it and knowing it wasn’t fair to call, but I pressed dial anyway, wondering how I could’ve gotten it all so very, very wrong. Naturally, he didn’t pick up. I didn’t even know if I’d expected him to, but I probably wouldn’t have if I was him.

“Hi, you’ve reached Ryan Thayer. If you’re old school, leave a message at the tone. If not, try me again later.”

I smiled through the tears welling in my eyes at the sound of his voice and the voicemail prompt that was so like him. For a second, I considered hanging up, but I hadn’t even decided what I was going to do yet when it all just started pouring out of me.

“Hi, it’s me.” I paused. “Maggie. I, uh, I don’t know what I’m doing, Ry. I know I shouldn’t be calling, but I just found out that you didn’t take the money and I guess I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

Tears started streaming in hot, furious rivulets down my cheeks, my voice tight, but somehow, I managed to keep it steady. “I never should’ve assumed that you took it just because it was offered. I got it all wrong, and honestly, I don’t know anymore if I can do this tomorrow. I don’t know if I can marry Daniel when that’s the last thing I want. I keep thinking about running again, but I know I can’t, so don’t worry. I won’t do that to him again, but I…”

I dragged in a deep, shaky breath. “I’m sorry, Ryan. I’m so sorry. About everything. I know that doesn’t change anything, but God. I wish it could’ve been different. I wish you were here so we could’ve talked about all this face to face, but wherever you are and whatever you’re doing, I hope you’re happy, and I hope that one day, you’re going to find her.”

My voice finally cracked. “Actually, I know you will find her, your wife. One day, you’re going to look at some lucky lady and just know that she’s meant to be yours. Just, uh, be happy, Ryan.”

As soon as I felt a rush of anger spiral through me over the fact that this was apparently how things were meant to be, I ended the call and sagged back against the wall. Trying to regain my composure, I stayed exactly where I was until the bell rang to signal dinner would be served soon.

Finally inhaling a deep breath, I was just about to head out again when my phone buzzed with an incoming text.

Ryan: Do the tables have tablecloths you can hide under?

I laughed, a tiny, breathless sound that escaped before I could stop it, but this time, no. There was nowhere to hide and I wouldn’t run.

As I stared at his message, I suddenly knew deep down that I would go through with this wedding. Everything in my heart might be screaming no, but I truly had accepted that this was my fate, so I typed one final message to Ryan, knowing it was going to be even harder now to put him behind me, but I would do it.

Eventually.

Me: Unfortunately, no. Nowhere to hide, but I’m okay now. Really. Thank you for everything, Ryan. I mean it. Thank you.