Last Name - Dr. Rebecca Sharp Page 0,56

trying my best not to cry.

“I want to be married to you.”

I’d bet my heart, rolled the dice, played the odds, and I’d lost.

My job. My last name. My heart.

I’d lost it all to James Arden.

He was the one to save me when we met.

Now, it was my turn to save him.

He’d done so much to take care of his family. I wouldn’t let him give it up for me. I wouldn’t let him risk everything he’d tried to save… tried to preserve… for a clumsy girl who liked adventure.

“I want to be married to you, too,” I confessed in the tiniest whisper, telling myself he’d already fallen asleep and the bittersweet confession left unheard.

I want to be married to you.

I clenched my teeth and looked in the mirror. Not at myself, but at the reflection of the empty bed in the background.

Fuck.

I’d woken up to a warm, but empty bed. An indent and the scent of citrus lingering where Carrie had been.

I shouldn’t have said anything. I fucking knew it. I was moving too fast. Saying too much. Especially when I still had to tell her that we weren’t actually married.

But when she asked about my father… pulling a truth I’d never uttered before, even when talking to those who knew… who suspected what my father had been doing.

Why don’t you just tell them?

Her question stuck with me just as much as her sudden absence did.

I hadn’t expected it.

I’d never really thought about it.

After doing everything to keep the sordid details from ever seeing light, I never thought about going against all my hard work and telling my mother and Lars the truth.

I could bear this weight on my own.

Until she asked and made me wonder if it was still the right choice.

And now, she was gone, with only a note that she’d see me later on the boat cruise. There were other excuses. Needing to change. Things to get done.

But all I could think was I’d told her I wanted to be married—in her mind, stay married—and it was too soon.

Dammit, James.

One date with her as my official girlfriend in front of friends and family, and I’d jumped right to talking about forever. About staying married to her boss.

I needed to talk to her. To apologize. To tell her we could take this at whatever pace she wanted.

To tell her that I loved her.

“Suzanne, have you seen Carrie?”

Concern marred her previously bright expression as I stalked up the steps onto the boat.

“I did earlier. She’s been running around trying to get everything squared away for today.” She paused. “But she seemed more distracted than usual. Is everything okay?”

“I just need to talk to her.” I cleared my throat. After her note this morning, I gave it time. If I’d said too much, then she deserves some space to gather her thoughts before I bombarded her with my own once more.

But as the day dragged on, worry continue to sink like a stone in my stomach, rippling out with the thought that each moment that passed was another step she was taking away from me.

And I didn’t want to lose her.

And I knew she felt the same.

I swore what I’d heard on the very brink of sleep last night hadn’t been an illusion.

“Well, I saw her on board maybe ten minutes ago. She must still be here. We’re heading out soon,” Suz went on, looking over her shoulder as though she expected Carrie to appear any minute.

“Thanks,” I replied with a tight nod, moving past her with a determined stride as I sought to find the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

“She’s not here.”

I halted at the sing-song voice, turning and sinking a dark stare on Lynn’s scheming form, propped carelessly against the doorframe.

I bit back a growl just as the floor lurched beneath us, the grave signal of the boat starting up. We were leaving soon—and Carrie was nowhere on board.

“How do you know?” I demanded, and then, eyes narrowing, added, “What have you done?”

The corner of her smile ticked up. “I told her the truth.”

Swearing under my breath, I spun and advanced on her. “And what truth is that?”

“That you’d never do anything to hurt your family.”

I tensed, dread rippling up my spine like a monster lurking beneath the surface.

“Lynn…” I bit out through clenched teeth. “What. Did. You. Say? Tell me or I swear to God—”

“You’ll what, James?” she cut in. “Tell on me?” She laughed. “We both know you’ll never