Lethal Wedding (Wedlocked Trilogy Book 2) - Charlotte Byrd Page 0,26

me, but now I'm pretty certain that she did not.

What I do think is that she's marrying him against her will.

Is that crazy?

I mean, that would never happen in this day and age.

And that would certainly not happen to an heiress, right?

I ask the doorman about the Tate/ Parks engagement party and he points me to the ballroom at the end of the hallway.

Most of the people inside are much older than I am, probably Aurora’s parents’ friends. There are elegant draperies all around and all the guests are dressed in gowns. The room looks like a wedding reception rather than an engagement party.

I slowly make my way toward the bar in the back and spot Franklin holding court with Aurora’s father. Avoiding them, I start to make my way back around the room. When I come out of the ballroom, I run straight into her.

Without a second thought, she throws her arms around me.

“What are you doing here?” she whispers into my ear.

“I'm sorry about that,” she says, pulling away and hiding her exuberance behind a facade of appropriateness. “How are you?”

“I'm good, how are you?” I ask.

“Fine,” she says quietly, looking down at her feet.

Dressed in a short black dress, with thick straps and high stilettos, she doesn't really look like the woman I used to date. This person is buttoned up and so put together that she doesn’t look comfortable in her own skin.

Aurora shifts her weight from one foot to another and looks up at me with her big wide eyes. For a second, it looks like she’s pleading for me to do something. What, I don’t know.

“Are you okay?” I ask, putting my hand on her arm.

She jerks it away and folds her arms across her chest. “Yes, of course, I'm fine.”

We stand staring at each other, neither of us saying a word.

“Aren’t you going to congratulate me?” she asks.

“Yes, of course, congratulations,” I say without much fanfare.

The expression on her face changes and her plastic smile disappears.

“Why are you here?" she asks. “Are you trying to make me angry?”

“No, of course not. I just needed to see you.”

“Why?”

"I miss you,” I say with a shrug. “I don't know what else to say. I love you.”

I know that I'm probably making things very complicated, but I want her to know the truth.

“That's not fair,” Aurora says after moment. “You're too late. I am engaged to someone else.”

"Someone you don't love," I point out. “Someone you are marrying because… you have to.”

Her eyes get big like two saucers and her mouth drops open.

“How do you…” she lets her voice trail off.

“How do I, what?" I ask her. "How do I know?”

“No, I misspoke,” she says. I don't believe her.

“Aurora, what is going on here? Why are you doing this?”

“I love him," she says quietly.

She stares deep into my eyes and repeats herself.

"You can trust me, you know that, right?” I ask.

She doesn't respond.

“You can trust me and you can tell me anything,” I insist.

“I don't have anything to tell you," she says after a long pause. "Why can't you understand that?”

“Tell me the truth,” I plead with her. “I can help you.”

Her eyes dart back-and-forth and then she looks down at her hands.

I can feel that she's on the verge of telling me something. And then Mrs. Tate appears.

Aurora folds her arms across her chest and puts up an invisible wall between us.

“Mom, do you remember Henry?” Aurora asks.

“Yes, of course. It's very nice to see you again," Mrs. Tate says. “I've heard that you are having a lot of success with your podcast. Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” I mumble.

"Aurora, honey.” Mrs. Tate turns to her. “I'm sorry to pull you away but Franklin is getting ready to make a speech and he needs you by his side.”

17

Henry

I stand in the back and listen to Franklin say all sorts of nice and beautiful things about Aurora, all of which someone else must’ve written for him.

It's not until this speech that I fully realize that whatever this is, it is not a real marriage. Franklin doesn't know the first thing about her, and, for some reason, it doesn't seem to bother Aurora.

She laughs and smiles, occasionally looking down at her feet the way that she does when she feels uncomfortable. Franklin doesn't seem to notice and continues talking extravagantly about them as a couple and mostly about himself.

Unwilling to listen to anymore of the charade, I step outside and find myself at the hotel bar near the lobby. I