come to an even more sickening revelation.
Was Manny exactly like Colin?
She’d revealed herself to Manny, and the next day, he dumped her. Worse, he’d fooled her into believing it hadn’t mattered to him, that he adored her regardless.
At least that asshole Colin had the decency to not touch her once she showed him and had withdrawn before breaking up with her.
But Manny’s acceptance of the real her had made her fall in love with him even more, if that were possible, and that made him a hundred times worse bastard than Colin.
The rational side of her didn’t want to believe this was the case. Manny wasn’t that good of an actor. Then again, he’d conned her into getting engaged for the wrong reasons, so maybe he was?
Muttering a string of unladylike curses under her breath, she stomped inside and turned up the heat. Like that would do anything to ease the chill invading her body. Her cell rang as she tore open a fresh pack of Tim Tams, intent on demolishing all eleven of those little slices of chocolate heaven.
It better not be Manny. Then again, her cell had remained silent on the thirty-minute drive home, when a guy who wanted to win her back would’ve called or texted nonstop.
His silence spoke volumes.
Resisting the urge to fling her cell across the kitchen, she glanced at the screen.
Mom.
Harper wanted to let the call go through to voice mail. She wasn’t in a fit state to talk to her mother. But if she didn’t answer, Lydia would think something was wrong; her mom had good instincts like that.
Like how Lydia had known something was wrong with Izzy and had warned Harper about it before she’d left the party.
She’d have to break the news to her parents sometime, and putting it off wouldn’t make the task any easier.
With a sigh, she picked up the phone and hit the “answer” button.
“Hey, Mom.”
Harper tried to inject as much fake enthusiasm into her voice, but predictably, Lydia wasn’t buying it.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing . . .” The lie ended on a sob, and the sorrow Harper had been holding in finally burst in a torrent of tears.
“Are you home? I’m coming right over,” Lydia said, all brusque efficiency.
“I’m home,” Harper managed, with a hiccup. She’d planned on having a pity party for one, but her mom, along with Nishi, had been her best friend growing up, and it might help to have her around.
“That woman said something to upset you, didn’t she?” Lydia asked, tut-tutting. “But why isn’t Manny with you? Did he stay with her?”
“Mom, come over. I’ll explain everything then.”
Harper hung up before she blurted the whole sorry tale over the phone. What she had to say had to be said face-to-face.
With gin.
And Tim Tams.
Two packs’ worth.
63
After Harper drove away, Manny trudged inside, and the first thing he saw was her makeup bag on his dining table, her robe draped across a chair and her overnight bag underneath. He’d teased her about making herself at home and she’d come back with “You better get used to it.”
Not anymore.
The pressure in his chest expanded, compressing every organ until he could hardly breathe. Had he been naive in not thinking it would come to this? That his astute grandmother wouldn’t see through him, like she had his entire life? That she wouldn’t call him out on it?
But that’s the thing; Izzy should’ve confronted him, not Harper. He loved his grandmother more than life itself, but what she’d done was unforgivable. Harper didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of Izzy’s blunt home truths; his fiancée didn’t deserve to be treated that way.
Ex-fiancée.
“Fuck,” he muttered, striding toward the table where he shoved her makeup and robe into her bag and zipped it up, trying not to remember sliding the robe off her, the silkiness of her skin beneath it, burying himself in her . . .
He couldn’t have this reminder of her in his place, taunting him, a testament to what a prick he’d been. It wasn’t like he’d get any sleep tonight anyway. So he grabbed the bag and headed back out, knowing when he got to Harper’s house he couldn’t go in like he yearned to do and try to convince her he’d never meant to hurt her, that he did care for her, that it was worth risking a second chance.
He wouldn’t do that to her. Couldn’t give her false hope, because one thing she’d said had struck home.
Do you know you’ve never said you love me?
He