Their Stormy Reunion (Protectors of Jasper Creek #3)

Prologue

Jasper Creek, Nine Years Ago

I fingered the intricate beading on the bodice of my wedding dress.

So pretty.

Too pretty for something that would never see the light of day.

My throat burned as I choked back a sob. My fingers trembled as I zipped it back up into the garment bag and hung it in the closet right next to my prom dress. The sight of the two dresses side by side nearly broke me. One a reminder of the best night of my life, the other a symbol of my shattered dreams.

How fitting . A wet laugh escaped.

I made sure not to make any noise as I slid the door closed, terrified that any sound might make me lose my resolve. I turned and looked at the one lonely suitcase on the twin bed in my childhood bedroom. The room felt impossibly small, like the walls were closing in around me, suffocating me.

It wasn’t much to run away with. Not anything like the trailer full of dreams that Michael and I had readied to move into the small house that we had saved for. It wasn’t much, but it was ours. A house that would never become my home. I had a little bit in savings, not much, but enough to start over. Enough to disappear.

My palms were sweaty and I wiped them against my cargo pants, the coarse fabric grounding me. It was going to be hot tomorrow. No rain to dampen the perfection of the day. It was the stuff of dreams. Now the thought was a nightmare.

I froze when I saw my reflection in my dresser mirror. My reflection stared back, a stranger. Bloodshot eyes. Tangled hair. Tear-stained cheeks.

The pain overwhelmed me as I realized I would never see Michael again. I choked back a sob, primal and raw. Why was I even considering staying? How pathetic would it be to go through with marrying him? To stand up in front of the town, knowing what I knew.

But I love him. I love him so much!

I squeezed my eyes shut as the confession slammed into me. No matter how hard I tried to suppress the truth, tried to suppress the pain, it tore through me. A flood of memories washed over me. His smile. His laugh. The way he would look at me like I was the only person who mattered to him.

Then the memory shifted. Darkened.

Michael. Lindsay. That kiss. The way he touched her waist. The door closing behind them.

My knees buckled and I sank down onto the bed. My arms clasped around my stomach trying to hold myself together, as if I could ever be whole again. I’d trusted him with everything. My heart. My hope. My dreams. Every piece of me.

If he could do that, then he never really loved me, did he?

I slammed my fist into my gut, trying to stop myself from throwing up, trying not to scream. I couldn’t afford to wake my parents. Not when I was barely holding myself together.

I breathed deep. I needed to be strong. I was doing the right thing.

Maddie.

My maid of honor, my lifeline. I’d called her earlier, and when I’d told her that there was no need for her to come over in the morning for maid of honor duty, she offered to shoot Michael, and I think she was serious. I told her there was no need.

Then she said she was going to spray paint ‘cheater’ on the side of his car. God, I loved my friend. Finally, I got her to swear to secrecy.

I told her he was already dead to me, but she knew I was lying. She knew that I was just saying that because I thought I should. My best friend knew my truth.

Dammit, Fallon, get it together!

I swiped at my tears for the thousandth time and stood up, my legs like lead. I made my way to my childhood desk and looked down at my half-written letter. I’d started to write one to Michael, but each time I tried to write his name, I failed. It was too beautiful and sad a name to write, so I threw away those tries. Anyway, he’d made his choice, and now it was time for me to make mine.

But I had to say something to Mom and Dad. I picked up the pen to write something that would help stave off tomorrow’s chaos. Give them some sort of explanation. But in the end I couldn’t.

The wedding is off.

If I told them the truth, both of my parents would tell me to go through with the wedding. They loved Michael like the son they’d always wanted. He was the golden boy of Jasper Creek, and they would always side with him. Between Michael and me, their favorite was sticking around.

Tears came again. Hot. Relentless. I turned back to the suitcase and zipped it shut with trembling fingers. Tomorrow, on that perfect sunny day, I would be gone.

And maybe, just maybe, one day, I would learn how to live without Michael.