every word that she said. But I knew other truths to be certain, too. She hadn’t dealt with her breakup, the humiliation, the truth of how it hurt her. Instead, she’d packed it all up and put it away, pretending to forget. Pretending to move on. And along came Brock to crack that door open again. What if she decides she made a mistake? Would I be realized as replacement rather than a relationship? Would those feelings we’d both believed were honest be tarnished by the knowledge?
I should have known Brock’s presence would bite me in the ass. It was inescapable, a cruel inconvenience, and one that kept him firmly in his line of sight. How could she forget him when he—and more notably, Natasha—were so present? When Natasha insisted on parading it in front of her, flag in hand?
There has to be an explanation. It wasn’t what you think it was.
I drew a deep breath to steady myself, fearing it would only flame the inferno in my chest.
Trust her, I told myself. There’s nothing he has that she wants.
That ruthless other self only smiled like it knew better.
I made it back to the reception hall, and when the interns caught sight of me, there was a light of concern in their eyes. So I did my best to smooth my face, to calm myself, to offer a smile and relax my coiled shoulders and clenched fists, still poised to make Brock Bancroft eat his own teeth.
The visceral fury surprised and confused me. Not that I could have knocked Brock out—I’d been in enough fights with and behind my brothers that I held no issue with expressing myself with my fists, if necessary. But the depth of the potential betrayal tore open a part of me I rarely saw, one without ration.
What has she done to me?
I was changed, and at present, that change was not pretty. I sought to know why and realized it was simple.
I loved her. And the thought of her leaving me for that son of a bitch had turned me into a monster.
Lila wouldn’t entertain him, I was sure. So sure that I watched the doors of the ballroom, waiting for her to rush in and tell me everything, moving things around without purpose just to stop myself from going crazy. But the minutes ticked by, and still, there was no Lila.
She’s busy, I assured myself. She’s in charge of this whole operation, and Addison is here, looking for an excuse to hurt her.
The thought redirected my rage to Addison, a protective flare overpowering my jealousy and fear over Brock.
When I couldn’t stand Lila’s absence anymore, I exited the ballroom, heading through the grand hallway to the atrium, buttoning the top button of my suit coat on my way. I slid into the room with the stream of the wealthy, chattering guests, splitting off once I entered to snake around the back. Lila stood in the corner, visible enough that anyone who needed her could find her but discreetly enough that she almost blended in. When she saw me, her eyes lit up, her red lips smiling her relief that was cool rain on that fire in me.
She dismissed an intern as I approached, and I put all my energy into playing it cool.
“Look at you,” she said with an admiring sweep of my form. “I love this suit.”
“Same goes. The Armani?” I guessed, the twin black suit to her white one.
“It’s a special occasion,” she said with a smile.
“The wedding?”
“Only in that it marks the end of the whole ordeal.”
I couldn’t help but smile back, even with worry niggling at my heart. The conversation halted with an uneasy pause.
“So,” I started, hoping an opening would lead to an admission, “how’s everything going? Hit any snags?”
I could see it behind her eyes, the desire to tell me flitting around like a moth in a jar. But she shuttered it away, smiling instead.
“So far, so good, though not for lack of Addison’s digging.”
Disappointed but unwilling to push, I said, “She found anything?”
“Nothing. But the night is young. How about you? Everything going okay?”
“Fine,” I answered, unnerved by the stunted silence and superficial chitchat so unlike us. “Well, I’d better get back. Just wanted to check on you.”
“I’m glad you did,” she said with a smile, genuine and warm and reassuring. But it wasn’t enough to quell my doubts.