The Rivals - Dylan Allen Page 0,132

something he wants and then do the hard work it takes to make it his.

“Gigi, how are you feeling?” she asks.

I nod.

“Remi’s here,” she says. My heart plunges to my toes and my lungs constrict. But I nod.

“Are you sure you want to give it to him?” she asks. I let go of Hayes and pick up the letter I have tucked into my side on the bed. I rub the worn paper in between my fingers and nod again.

She smiles, a pained but encouraging smile. “I’ll send him in. We’ll be outside.”

She takes Hayes’s hand and they turn to leave. Just before they step through the door, Hayes looks back over his shoulder and says, “I love you, Gigi.” Then he’s gone.

I watch the door. My heart threatens to burst out of my chest so that everyone can see what a cowardly muscle it is. I clutch the letter that Lucas wrote Remi a few days before he disappeared. I know that this will change everything. That peace will probably never be my companion, but it’s time.

EPILOGUE 2

CONFIDENCE

My phone buzzes from its perch on my bedside table. I fling an arm out in the dark and fumble for it. A text message from Hayes flashes and I open it.

“Press Play” And then the next message is a video.

“Where are you?” I type back.

“Press Play” is his response.

“Not exactly how I imagined our wedding night,” I grumble and sit up. I’ve been waiting in our room for an hour.

By myself.

Hayes left to get something he forgot downstairs. I spent the first half an hour getting myself ready. When I draped myself across the bed, I looked like everything I knew Hayes loved. My lingerie is a confection of ice blue lace and satin. My hair smelled like roses and my lips were smeared with cherry flavored lip balm. Now, my hair is a tangled mess, I have sleep in my eyes and I’ll probably want to brush my teeth again before I kiss Hayes.

If I ever kiss Hayes again

“You haven’t pressed play, have you? Stop being mad and watch.” His text says and so I push aside my annoyance and comply.

The video starts and my heart lodges in my throat. I clutch my chest and every drop of irritation I felt seconds of ago disappears.

On my screen, my mother and I are dancing at the wedding. We’re wrapped in each other’s arms. Our heads resting on each other’s shoulders. The look on my mother’s face steals my breath. She’s smiling. Her eyes are closed and she looks like she’s having the very best dream. We’ve been fine since Daddy and Fortune left. But she hasn’t smiled like this since long before that horrific night. We’d held each other then, too. But we’d been fused together by terror. Tonight, it had been nothing but pure love.

The song, “The Rose” by Bette Midler was her choice. And the slow, repetitive melody on piano and the gently joyous strains of the violins wrap me in the same tender embrace my mother’s arms gave me while we danced. The camera zooms onto our faces for the last ninety-seconds of the song and I watch as the tears run down her face and drop onto my shoulder. I hadn’t felt her tears then and I watch as she composes her face and a bright smile spreads just as the song ends. The scene cuts to a white wall and I blink to clear my vision at the abrupt change in background.

Then Hayes sits down in front of the camera. “So, this is where I’ve been,” he says into the camera. He sweeps his hand over the parts of himself that are visible in the camera. His hair is tamed into waves of chocolate silk again. The broad, bold angles of his cheekbones are more prominent than normal because he’s completely freshly shaven. His tuxedo looks crisp and stiff again. When we’d stumbled up to our room after the reception, we’d been sweaty from dancing, and his collar had several smudges of my lipstick on it.

“I was watching that video while you were in the bathroom and it finally hit me what I should give you for a wedding gift. I wanted it to be something that money couldn’t buy.” He gives me one of his closed mouth, sexy as fuck smiles. His intelligent, oh so beautiful hazel eyes search my face as if he knew exactly where it would be when he was making the