of her father, had stolen the delusion that I was sane and whole.
Because I wasn’t.
Not when it came to her.
An obsession with the young woman took hold.
Now I stand here, almost six years later, to see her in white again, except this time she is in the arms of another.
If I didn’t know better, I would swear Grant Cabot chose the venue especially for me. As if he intended to rub my nose in it. As if I hadn’t allowed this day to happen when I chose to let go of what had been mine all along.
St. Margaret Cathedral. A gothic revival style church that is garish and imposing...and just happened to be the first place you see when looking out the windows of my penthouse.
What the dumbass doesn’t know is that if it weren’t for me, he would never have found Adeline.
The elevator to my penthouse dings just before the familiar gravel of Lincoln’s deep voice echoes through the open space.
“I smell pussy.”
Not bothering to look over at Lincoln as he strolls into the living room, I grin.
“A woman hasn’t stepped foot inside this place since I bought it six years ago.”
“Then it must be you. Would you like some tissues to blot your swollen eyes?”
With a forearm braced against the sheet glass of the bank of windows that stand floor to ceiling to give me a view of my kingdom below, I stare down at the church where Adeline is getting married.
Wearing a pair of black slacks and a white dress shirt left unbuttoned, I hold a snifter of cognac in my hand to drink away the day I knew would come.
“She didn’t choose the venue,” I say, ignoring Lincoln’s taunt. “Something so large and flashy isn’t her. Adeline loves silently, privately. He must have forced her into it.”
“Or they made a decision together because that’s what couples do.”
No. She never would have agreed.
I know Adeline.
Know every odd thought and idiosyncrasy.
She is a woman who fights against the norm. One who should be lifted above the heads of the mediocre, but is instead pulled down and buried for daring to walk to the beat of her own drum.
“He’ll change her, and whether for the worse or better, I’m not sure.”
A sound of placid agreement. “Maybe he’ll finally tame that wild streak inside her.”
Eyes narrowed on the church, I still. “That’s what I like about her.”
“Or want for yourself,” he suggests, the words hanging in the air as a challenge. “You did the right thing by staying away. Don’t fuck it up now.”
A spark of anger snaps through me. My eyes shoot to Lincoln.
“At what point did I invite you here or ask for your opinion?”
He smirks from where he had settled on the large leather sofa, uninvited I might add, his arms stretched across the back as if he owns the place.
Had it been any other couch, any other penthouse, maybe he would. Messing with a man like Lincoln is a lesson in stupidity. His height and build on their own are enough to make any man think twice, but he has the constant promise of a quick death staring out from behind intelligent brown eyes, the color of them as dark as his hair.
“I had a feeling you needed company. That and I wouldn’t miss the little monster getting married. I feel like, with as much as you and I have babysat her in the past six years, we should be the ones walking her down the aisle.” He pauses. “Or maybe not. In the mood you’re in, you’d shoot her husband before she had the chance to say I do.”
“Too public a venue,” I muse.
He chuckles before a deep breath blows over his lips.
“She’s gone, Ari. Someone else’s problem. You can stop watching her. It’s time to let go.”
As if on cue, the cathedral bells ring their haunting melody, an announcement to the city that Adeline Kane is officially a wife.
My eyes turn back to the church. The front doors fly open, and the wedding party spills out to lead the bride and groom to their waiting car. They toss birdseed instead of confetti, some swirling wands dipped in soap to release bubbles that reflect the grey skies above their heads.
It reminds me of a day I can’t allow myself to regret, a day when I could have kissed her and stolen her away.
I’m getting engaged...
Her voice whispers in my ear, the memory forcing my hand to clench.