Between Now and Heartbreak - Dylan Allen Page 0,98

and I’d already decided I couldn’t keep it.

But, I knew from the moment I got there that I couldn’t tell him. We are all already so shattered by everything else.

What would be the point? There was nothing for him to do or say. Especially not after we… what happened on the piano. I am so ashamed when I think about that. And not just because I we did that in a church, after we both knew the truth. But, because I enjoyed it so much.

When I started bleeding the day after he left, I’d been home alone with Fiona and Cameron. She took me to the hospital and waited while they examined me. She had been close to hysterical with worry as we drove.

I pretended to be. But, I knew I was having a miscarriage and there was no ambiguity in my emotions. I was one hundred percent heartbroken. I’d been planning to end the pregnancy, so I couldn’t understand why it felt like something inside of me shattered when they confirmed the obvious.

Once I was discharged, Fiona took me home, took care of me and made excuses to my father when I missed two campaign events that week. She was kind to me. Protected me. I was grateful.

It was in that lull of emotion that’s Duke reappeared. He was as contrite and attentive as he could be. I was too beat down and tired to do more than take him at face value. He was stepping into his new role at Wolfe now that my father was in full campaign mode and he promised me a job there if I wanted it.

I didn’t. I needed to figure out who I was without all of that madness.

I decided to stay in my father’s house because I wasn’t sure I could bear to be alone. The days that Fiona and my dad were on the road, I stayed with Cameron. That little girl saved my life. Duke would come over and just hang out.

It was one of those evenings, two months after it all went down, that he asked me to reconsider our arrangement. Maybe we could make it work after all. There would be no misunderstanding this time. And wasn’t the devil I knew better than ever putting myself through all of that agony of trying to find love again?

I agreed.

I never wanted to put my heart in another’s hands again. Not my father, not my brothers, not a man who would be my lover. I wanted the clinical, calculated relationship Duke was offering. It would insulate me from scrutiny, get me away from my father, and I would use that money for good.

It was a better offer than I deserved. I’d humiliated him and insulted him. He was offering me a second chance. So I took it. We resumed our public relationship with very little fanfare or explanation.

A little over a year later, we’re getting married and one step closer to what we both want - Independence from our families.

My father, who had recovered very quickly from the shock of learning he had another son, was up in the polls, and with election day a month away, this wedding would be great PR for him.

For me, it was a means to an end.

“Is the dress pressed?” My grandmother demands of Serene. I look up at her in the mirror. She’s watching Serene with an expression that is uniquely hers. It’s the most interesting juxtaposition of humility and smug satisfaction.

Serene, even though she’s on the other side of the room, still visibly shrinks under her withering gaze. She smiles, her eyes dart nervously between us. My grandmother stares at her expectantly and she flushes.

“It’s being pressed now.”

“It should have been here already.” My grandmother snaps irritably.

Serene glances at her watch. “It’s on schedule.”

“Have you seen it? We won’t have time for last minute alterations if something isn’t right.”

“She had a fitting two days ago, it was perfect. The dress is a confection. The gossamer is so light, it floats.” Her eyes get a dreamy faraway look in them and I want to tell her that if she loves it so much, maybe she should wear it instead of me.

I’m sure she’d make a much more suitable wife for Duke than I would. She looks the part. I mean, I do too, but it took a lot of work and layers of makeup to achieve what she does just by waking up.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion on the dress.”

She gives

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