Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
“Don’t!” I point a finger at him and wag it even as I blink the blurriness from my lids. There’s no time to redo my makeup.
He holds up his hands. “No more paternal pride. Promise. Now, come on. There’s a wedding to get to.”
I take his arm and let him lead me from the room to the doors just outside the ornate ballroom where my bridesmaids are gathered. The wedding planner pulls my dad aside to talk with him about where to stand during the wedding photos.
Ronnie spots me first, and she wraps me in a hug, careful not to crush or wrinkle my dress. “Molly and Milo are fine. The sitter is doing a great job keeping an eye on them.”
“Is he here?” I whisper.
“And so smug. I just want to hit him. Can I hit him? You could count it as my birthday gift.”
I chuckle despite my mood. Ronnie is my ride-or-die. She’d do anything for me and anything with me. It’s a rare trait to find in a best friend, and I’m lucky to have her. Just like I’m lucky to have my dad.
He offers me his arm, eyes tearing up again. “Are you ready?”
I hug Ronnie one more time then take my dad’s arm, and together, we walk down the aisle. Thirty-seven. That’s how many steps it takes to get to the altar. There are blue roses twining around the marble podium. My dad spared no expense, and Stuart let him.
When he takes my hand, his is slick and clammy. It reminds me of touching a cold, dead fish in the supermarket, and I fight a full body shudder of revulsion.
The officiant begins the vows, and with every passing word, the bile in my throat climbs a little higher as I remember the video I downloaded and saved. Evidence should I ever need it.
I take a slow breath in, fighting the urge to bolt for the door just in time for the moment of truth. The request for objections.
The sentence is barely finished before my cowboy is storming down the aisle. He really does look like a man whose girl is about to be stolen. For some reason, that thought makes my stomach swoop. I can’t examine that too closely because I have a part to play too.
“I object,” his voice rings out clear and determined. He’s changed out of his flannel and into a tuxedo. But his is different than Stuart’s. His clings tightly to his body, a size too small.
He’s glaring at my groom, looking like he’s hoping for an excuse to turn this into a barroom brawl. He’ll have to get in line behind Ronnie.
The officiant looks between the three of us. It’s obvious he wasn’t prepared for this moment. Good thing I am.
“Cord,” I gasp his name, leaning on every lesson my drama professor gave me in my college acting class, the one Ronnie talked me into signing up for. “What are you doing here?”
His gaze flicks to mine and for a moment, something flashes on his face that makes me think he’s known deep heartbreak. “I couldn’t let you get married without telling you how I feel.”
“Who is this?” Stuart demands belligerently. His tone sends a fresh wave of anger through me. How dare this man act self-righteous in this moment when he’s been sleeping with someone else for a year. Yeah, I went through his phone when he left it alone.
Finally, the officiant stutters out weakly, “On w-what grounds are you objecting to this union?”
“On the grounds that I am completely in love with the bride,” Cord says, his voice booming across the venue.
There are gasps and whispers from the crowd.
In my imagination, the scene wasn’t quite like this. It was quieter, not nearly as loud. But Cord is playing his part so well. I like the way he looks like a man who’s on the verge of losing his soulmate. Like a man who will fight for his woman.
“Have you been cheating on me?” Stuart hisses from between clenched teeth even though he still has a smile on his face. I hate that stupid fake smile he uses when he wants everyone to think he’s the good guy.
I turn to the officiant. “Give us a moment.”
Grabbing Stuart, I tug him a few steps away and turn my back to our waiting audience. They can still see his expression, but I don’t care.
“That’s what this is, isn’t it?” Stuart demands, his face taking on a mottled shade. It makes me oddly happy to know he’s upset, even if he’s not upset about losing me. He’s only upset about losing my fortune.
Cord steps close behind me, his body heat radiating. For some reason, feeling him at my back gives me an unexpected surge of strength.
“I haven’t been cheating on you,” I say, my voice quiet and even, “but I know you’ve been cheating on me. This is your out. You need to leave right now.”