Page 88 of Runaway Bride’s Husband

“Don’t you?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, I do.”

“So why are you crying?”

“Haven’t you heard?” I asked dryly. “I have terrible allergies.”

She let out a soft, sad-sounding chuckle. “To shellfish, so unless that dog is a lobster or a scallop in disguise, you’re going to have to come up with a new excuse.”

The puppy shifted, his enormous head sliding farther up my chest, and I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close as my heart cracked just a little more in my chest. “Maybe we can convince people that I’m allergic to everything. At least that way, they’ll leave me in a bubble in my room forever, right?”

Cathy reached over and squeezed my ankle. “Are you actually going to go through with this wedding if it’s hurting you this badly?”

“Yes, I am. It’s a week away. There’s no getting out of it anymore.”

“You’re actually going to get married?”

“That’s what weddings are for.”

“Sure. It’s just that I thought maybe you’d changed your mind.”

“I’ve considered it, but I’ve already done that,” I said. “I figured this time, I’ll change things up and actually do it.”

She let out a soft laugh. “If that’s true, then why aren’t you at your dress fitting?”

I shrugged. “Mom will make sure it fits. I don’t need to be there. I’ve been at all the others.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what fittings are for,” she said, giving my own words back to me. “It’s a beautiful dress, but it still won’t be comfortable if you’re not there for them to make sure it fits right.”

I sighed, my gaze drifting to the closet my yellow vintage dress was hanging in. It was still there. I’d kept it, but my mother had nearly had a coronary when I’d shown it to her. As a result, we’d compromised on a pearl white creation with softer lines than the previous one.

It was elegant and expensive, but I still didn’t love it nearly as much as the one Ryan had found. Mom, however, had deemed the yellow dress a tacky disaster that was entirely unacceptable and she’d dug her heels in real deep on the issue. Eventually, I’d caved and selected the least offensive of the options her designer had sent over.

Every time I opened my closet though, I still saw my dream dress, and whenever I did, I remembered Ryan coming back with it after I’d described it to him just one time. The memory pushed me over the edge and a tear I couldn’t hold back any longer slipped from the corner of one eye.

I swiped it away, but Cathy had already seen it, breathing out a heavy sigh as she shook her head at me. “What is going on with you, babe? I know you’re not crazy, head-over-heels in love with Daniel, but that’s not what this is about, is it?”

“No,” I admitted quietly a moment later. “I am marrying Daniel, though. There is no way around that and I can’t get out of it, so it’s just cruel to string someone else along or to pretend like there could be a happily ever after for any of us.”

She went quiet for a long beat. “Ryan Thayer?”

I shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“It could.”

“It won’t,” I said firmly. “My family has arranged my marriage to Daniel Hawthorne. That’s what matters. Trust me, that’s how this story ends, with me as Maggie Hawthorne. Nothing, and I do mean nothing, will change that.”

“Maybe.” Cathy nudged my shoulder. “You could call Ryan, though.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s over, Cathy.” I finally glanced up at her again, needing her to see how serious I was about this. “It’s over. Done. Kaput.”

Aside from the fact that I didn’t need to be harboring any false hope about somehow getting out of this marriage, especially after talking to Viola, calling Ryan would mean hearing his voice. It would mean remembering the way he looked at me like he actually saw who I was inside and that would mean asking if it had all been a lie.

I couldn’t afford any of that. I had nowhere else to run and no one left to chase me. This was it.