Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 59827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Then fear crashed over her features like a wave.
He watched her expression shift from joy to panic in the space of a heartbeat.
“I—” she started.
His hands were still cupping her face.
He could feel her trembling.
“I need to—”
No.
Don’t.
“I have to go to the powder room.”
And then she was pulling away, stepping back, putting distance between them like he’d burned her instead of offered her everything.
“Evianne—”
“I’m sorry, I just need a minute—”
She turned and fled back into the ballroom, moving fast, disappearing into the crowd before he could stop her.
Veil stood on the balcony with his hands still raised like he was holding something that had just evaporated, and tried to process what had happened.
He’d laid himself bare, made himself vulnerable in a way he hadn’t since his father died, and she’d looked at him with panic and run.
His hands lowered slowly.
Curled into fists.
Something hot and vicious rose in his chest, and he forced himself to breathe through it.
Think, Hampton.
There could be other explanations. She was scared. He’d known that going in. Maybe she just needed time.
Maybe—
Veil walked back into the ballroom and immediately knew something was wrong.
People were staring. Not at him directly, they were too well-bred for that, but there was a buzz running through the crowd, a current of whispered conversation that hadn’t been there before.
And they were looking at their phones.
“Veil.” Damian Fox’s tone instantly had him on edge. “I’m afraid we have a situation...concerning Evianne.”
Veil had somehow known that was coming, but hearing her name still had him stiffening.
“There were paparazzi under the balcony. They caught your conversation on video.”
The look on his friend’s face told him everything else, and all he needed to find out was just how bad was it.
Ah.
The moment he took his phone out, he saw that his inbox was already exploding with countless messages from his company’s PR and legal department.
A video of him and Evianne had already been shared thousands of times, and the comments were exactly what he’d expect from strangers who understood nothing:
Duke of Veilcourt REJECTED at own gala!
Who says no to a DUKE??
She literally RAN AWAY lmaooo
Veil dropped his phone back in his pocket. “It is what it is,” he said with a shrug. This type of publicity was unfortunate and distasteful, but he had never cared about public opinion either way, and so it didn’t bother him one bit.
“Unfortunately, that’s not the only situation that’s come up.”
What the—
“There’s a man at the gates. Name’s Joseph Prince. Not on the guest list. He’s demanding to see your mother’s assistant.”
Veil frowned. “I don’t recall Evianne mentioning that name.”
“Security is holding him, but he’s quite insistent.”
His jaw clenched. “What is it you’re not telling me?”
“He says he’s her fiancé.”
Veil’s fists slowly clenched against his sides.
So this was why she had been running from him.
Because all along...Evianne had someone else.
Chapter Nine
I’M LOCKED IN THE POWDER room stall, hyperventilating, and I know I’m being a coward but I can’t breathe, I can’t think, I can’t—
My hands are shaking.
My vision is tunneling.
My chest is so tight it feels like dying, like actually dying, because this is what dying feels like, right? Your lungs forgetting how to work and your heart racing so fast it might explode and—
Stop.
Breathe.
You’re having a panic attack, not a heart attack.
I press my palms against the cool metal of the stall door and try to remember the breathing technique Dorcas taught me. In for four counts, hold for four, out for four. Except I can’t count to four because my brain won’t cooperate, it just keeps replaying that moment on the balcony over and over and over.
Veil’s beautiful face when he asked me to be his girlfriend...and how he had whitened when I just gave him the dumbest excuse to run away.
Oh God, what is wrong with me?
The question echoes in my head, accusatory and loud, and I don’t have an answer.
Why can’t I just say yes?
Why can’t I just be normal about this?
He loves me, I love him, it should be simple, except nothing about me has ever been simple, and Joseph’s voice is in my head saying boring, boring, boring, and what if Veil realizes the same thing, what if he figures out I’m not interesting enough to be a duke’s girlfriend, what if—
My throat closes up completely.
This is a panic attack.
I know what these feel like. Joseph gave me plenty of them over three years. Every time he made me feel small, every time he looked at me like I was disappointing him, every time he canceled plans because I wasn’t exciting enough.
But this time it’s different.
This time I’m not panicking because someone hurt me.
I’m panicking because I might lose something precious. Something I didn’t even know I wanted until I flew to Wyoming with a stranger who held my hand while I cried.
God, I’m so scared.