Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 119184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Her eyes heat, guarded and sad.
“Yes. I have so much to deal with.” Her lips tremble.
“I know.” And I step in front of her. Years of growing up in the spotlight kick in when my own reason doesn’t—but we can’t have a scene in a busy neighborhood, right here in her driveway. “Can we just sit down for a minute? Five minutes, then I’ll buzz off.”
She glances longingly at the car, but then she nods and leads the way back to her open front door, waiting for me.
Thank God.
I shut it behind me, and once we’re inside, I glance around.
Her normally small yet orderly environment looks like it’s been through an earthquake.
Stray clothes everywhere, tossed over chairs and piled on the floor, like she’s just done her laundry and decided to stuff everything clean into a suitcase.
“What’s the rush?” I say. “Shit, are you that desperate to get away from me?”
“I have a flight to catch.” She folds her arms. “If you’re going to try to talk me out of going, don’t.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth,” I bite off. “I just want to know what’s going on with you. The truth, not excuses to shut me up.”
“The truth.” She repeats that word like a curse.
Then she shakes her head, her cheeks flaring and her eyes swimming with agony.
Goddamn, I hate this.
She’s a candle with its wick burned down, her usual fire leaving her wilted. My gut clenches. I already know that whatever she’s got has to be bad.
“Fine. I suppose you deserve that much,” she whispers, lifting her chin. “The truth is, I’m not the right person for this sham engagement anymore. I’m sorry it got this far—I really am—but if we keep going through with it, you’ll only have a harder time later.”
Her words are fucking bullets.
I rock back, feeling them vibrate in my bones.
“What the hell, Lena? You can’t believe that. Be serious.”
“I am—and I’m sorry. You don’t even know. I was going to think this through for a few more days and tell you first thing once I thought about how . . . but we’re here, aren’t we? What’s the point of dancing around it? This isn’t good for you and your brand. I know I signed a contract—but you’ll have your money back, of course. Every penny. I’m not going through with Pawsome Hearts.”
I stare at her.
When I walked into this, I knew she was panicked.
I didn’t know she’d lost her damn mind.
“Lena, come on. This isn’t about the goddamned money. What happened?” I’m desperate. I rake a hand through my hair, trying to pull myself together, to keep thinking like a sane man, even though my lungs have seized with panic.
“I’ll say whatever you want to explain the breakup,” she continues, tearing up now. “Whatever it takes. Blame me. Tell the world I cheated or . . . or . . .”
Her strained voice chokes off.
“Cheated? Fuck! You think I want to announce I couldn’t handle a fiancée for thirty damn days? The love of my life?”
Those last words cut deep.
She looks down, sniffing, blinking back tears.
“. . . I . . . I know. But it’s how it should be.”
Wrong.
She’s never been more wrong in her life, and I can’t believe she’s lying to my face.
I fucking know better.
Lena’s not melting down and cracking under the pressure. She’s too strong for that.
For the first time, anger flashes through my heartache.
“You’re walking, then. You’re leaving me stranded, and you won’t even tell me why.” Every word scorches my throat.
“Because I can’t do it, Brady!” She flares. “Because this isn’t me, and I can’t stand to hurt you. I thought I could when we first agreed, but now I know . . . I know better. And I’m sorry you feel misled. All I can offer is damage control. Can’t you just accept that?”
“No. Because this isn’t about my reputation and we both know it.”
She shakes her head fiercely.
“You’re wrong. Stop pointing fingers. I said I’ll help you make up for it. Just let me go.”
I stare at her, beyond bewildered. She doesn’t realize she’s demanding the impossible.
I’ll never let us go, I want to say.
Stupid, I know.
Outrageous, really, when she has the weakest half-hearted lies carved on her face.
There’s no negotiating when she’s in this state, though. Not here, not now.
For today, the deal’s off, and we’re becoming strangers again.
What else is there when she won’t give me the slightest opening to talk her down from the ledge?
The game just ended with the goddamned table flipped upside down.
“So that’s it,” I growl, still trying to convince myself to move my legs.
Walk the fuck away while I can.
“Y-yeah. That’s it.” She nods, but she won’t look at me, swiping at her tears with the back of her hand. “But wait.”
I turn around, my throat so tight as I look at her, but she’s back in the kitchen. I watch her grab something off the counter before she marches back to me, refusing to meet my eyes.