10. Pen
10
PEN
T he drive to the city was thankfully uneventful, and I sent messages to both Indie and Lake letting them know I’d arrived. I told Indie to be on standby in case I needed backup. She’s lived in Montana since college, but her roots are still firmly set in Tennessee and the girl is a master at a well-placed bless your heart.
The doorman of my condo building does a double take when he sees me, my outfit a far cry from the designer clothes hanging in my closet. But this is me and I won’t apologize for it.
Not anymore.
I take the elevator, then pause at the door to the condo, indecision warring in my veins. The key still hangs on my keyring, but this isn’t home— it never really had been. And even though I told Carter I’d be coming today, I can’t put into words how unsettled I am.
I’m about to knock when the door swings open, revealing a beautiful—and disheveled —woman.
She’s also someone I know.
“Giselle, hey, how are you?” I ask sweetly, not at all surprised that she’s the one warming my bed. His bed. She’s surprised to see me, her eyes flashing with trepidation before schooling her expression and staring down her nose at me.
“What are you doing here?”
“Well, technically, I live here,” I say before pushing past her and letting the door slam closed as soon as she steps out into the hall.
“Giselle, I thought I—” Carter’s voice trails off as he enters the living room, wearing slacks and an untucked dress shirt.
I snort, “Nice.”
He glares back as he snaps, “You don’t get to judge me. You ran out on my… on our wedding day. It’s not like I’m na?ve, Penelope. You’ve been shacked up with Lake and you can’t tell me you haven’t been fucking him.”
“I haven’t.”
He rolls his eyes, crossing the room to pour himself a drink. I wait.
He doesn’t offer me one but it’s just as well. I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to.
“I didn’t sleep with Lake, Carter, and I’m sorry I ran out. I just?—”
“Don’t want to marry me? Yeah, I got that.”
“And what about you?” I say, stepping farther into the condo that feels nothing like me. “You look devastated.”
He opens his mouth and then closes it, opting to throw back the rest of his drink before pouring another. “And you look like you stepped out of a bargain basement,” he sneers, staring out my outfit. It’s almost impossible not to laugh but I do my best, his face reddening the longer we stand here.
“Well, now you can give this to Giselle. I’m sure she’ll go crazy over it,” I say, tossing my engagement ring on the couch.
He flinches, the first real sign that maybe the guy I fell in love with is still in there. “Why the hell did you agree to marry me then?”
Maybe not.
“Because I thought we were in love!” I yell the words, surprising us both. “I thought we were in this together, and when we lived in Wintervale, that’s what we had. You didn’t care about my clothes or social status—only me. But we moved here and everything changed. I hate this life, Carter. And you hate that I hate it. But this was never us and Jesus, Carter, your mom planned our wedding. And you didn’t care she bought a dress I hate.”
“It was just a dress?—”
“It’s not just a dress!” I screech. “You don’t get it. And neither did I but this— us —hasn’t worked in a long time. You didn’t propose to me because you want to spend the rest of your life with me.” I sigh. “You did it because that seemed like the next logical step and a solid career move.”
Pressing his lips into a firm line, he stares at me. “You embarrassed me in front of everyone.” The words are low, his tone unreadable as we stare at each other. “Years wasted while you just strung me along.”
“I didn’t string you along and years wasted ? You wanted me here, in this apartment waiting for you to come home. That’s not someone you want to build a life with. I’m not some damn trophy.”
“No, you’re not. ”
Instead of being upset, I close the distance between us, my voice amused as I meet his gaze. “And you had me believing you care about anyone but yourself. That you cared about me. But you’re just a self-absorbed asshat who can’t seem to cut the cord from his mother.”
“Real fucking nice, Penelope.”
“You don’t get to be the victim, Carter. At the end of the day, you’re just as much at fault as I am. The only difference is that I stopped it. Now, why don’t you go to Giselle’s tonight so I can pack my stuff and get the hell out of here?”
“Don’t try crawling back here.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”