Page 52 of Broken Vows

“Sorry, I have to take this,” he says. And then he’s gone.

It feels like a bucket of ice water has been dumped over me. A brutal reminder that I’m just one of many—another woman he draws in, then discards. Shame and embarrassment crash into me all at once. How did I let myself get this blinded again? An unwanted tear slips down my cheek as I curse my own foolishness.

“Lexie,” the woman calls softly from outside. “Are you okay in there? You’ve been a while.”

“I’m fine,” I answer, my voice unsteady. “I’ll be out in just a minute.”

I finish getting dressed, leaving the wedding gown behind in the fitting room, and step back out in the lobby. “Theo?” I call out, but there’s no answer. The store is silent minus the shuffling sounds of dresses being housed back in their zipped garment-bagged homes. Through the storefront window, I see Theo pacing the sidewalk. He pinches the bridge of his nose, moves his hand like he’s trying to calm someone in front of him, and paces some more. He hangs up and takes a deep breath before coming into the store.

“Everything okay?” I ask, and yes, I’m prying.

“Oh yep, fine,” he says, softening. “It was just Anna.”

Liar! God, I knew it. I knew it. Of course, a phone call doesn’t prove anything. But everything I’ve seen, every instinct screaming in my gut, tells me he’s hiding something. As cliché as it is, sometimes the simplest conclusion is the right one. And really, who am I to judge, when I’ve imagined him doing all kinds of sinful things to me? The difference is, I won’t act on it.

“You are so full of shit. Do you actually believe the things that come out of your mouth?” I snap. “We both know that wasn’t Annabelle.” I have no right to ask him who Olivia is, or why he said it was Anna, or literally anything about his life, but my body is boiling with so much rage right now that I can’t stop myself.

“What exactly are you saying?” he seethes. “Be really fucking clear in your words so I don’t misunderstand.”

I shake my head. “It’s none of my business.”

“Oh no, you don’t get to do this. You just made it your fucking business. If you have something to say, now is the time.”

“Why would I say anything to you? Nothing I’ll say will ever change the type of person you are.”

He crosses his arm with an icy glare. “And exactly what type of person do you think I am?”

My eyes narrow, sharp, hot, and very fucking angry. “The type I can’t wait to never see again after your account is closed.”

A harsh, charged silence stretches when heels click from around the corner. “Ah, I want to thank you both so much for coming in today,” the woman says. “Do you want to set up another appointment?”

“No, I’m not sure either one of us could handle another session,” Theo says flatly, glaring at me and then dropping the heated look when he turns to the woman. “Truthfully, our wedding planner here has actually disappointed me with her lack of professionalism.”

All the color drains from my face before it turns beet red. How dare he?

“But I will take the dress before the last one that the planner tried on for my beautiful bride,” he says and the tone stabs me in the heart. “I’m sure my wife-to-be will be stunning in it.”

As he pulls out his credit card, my gut tightens, and my heart sinks. I storm out of the store before he can cut me anymore.

23 Theo

Pound, pound, pound.

Sweat builds in my neck, trickles down my back, my heartbeat rages in my chest.

I can’t fucking do this anymore.

Pound, pound, pound.

I’m hitting the boxing bag like it’s attacking me, landing brutal punches over and over, and the image isn’t erasing. Lexie in that dress. Her tits pushed up, her skin begging to be licked. The lush red hair swept to the side exposing the sweet, delicate slope in her neck. Soft lace hugging her mouth-watering curves. It was exactly how I’d pictured her. If things were different, if Anna was different, if I was different…

Beads of sweat run down my forehead. In the dressing room, Lexie’s sweet scent assaulted my mind. The sex and sweetness aura she emits is too much and it breaks me. I need to stay fucking focused. When she stood there as I adjusted her dress, I wanted to scoop her in my arms and take her away and pretend, for just a day, that we lived in a different reality. That she was mine, and I was hers, and none of the outside elements existed.

But then, what I said. She attacked, and I hit back. Twice as hard, twice as fast, like I always fucking do.

Fuck.

Red fills me. Why does she do this to me? Every goddamn time. It’s been almost two weeks and the wedding dress shop consumes my every waking hour. She’s the quintessential forbidden fruit, but I can’t stop. My raw desire eats at me, I’m powerless. The feel of her skin under my fingers, the way she looked, how she smelled. Her coconut-scented hair buried into my nose that night. So, like a fucking lunatic, I sniffed bottles of shampoo at a store until I found one that smelled like her and brought it home. She cast a spell on me that I can’t break.