Chapter 14 #2
Before I can get up, he lifts me off the floor and gets into my face. “Your only job is to marry Anthony Rothschild. And if I see you playing pretend again, I’ll—”
“Let go of her!” Matteo yells.
My eyes fly open, and I suck in a gulp of air, struggling to breathe.
I glance back at Kane, who’s sleeping, and I quietly climb out of bed, needing a moment.
I pace the hallway, trying to calm my racing heart, but when my memories hit, it’s hard to calm myself down. I never knew you could have a panic attack while you were asleep, but I’ve learned firsthand that it’s possible, and unfortunately for me, it happens often.
When it feels like the walls are closing in, I pad down the stairs, turn off the alarm, and head out the back door. The moment the salty air hits my senses, I release a shaky breath.
There’s just something about the beach that calms me.
I don’t know what time it is, but the moon is high in the sky, and the waves are crashing against the sand. There’s nobody around. It’s just me and the ocean.
It’s chilly outside, but I welcome the coolness. When my panic attacks hit, the increase in my blood pressure causes me to become overheated and sweat.
I step to where the water meets the sand and have a seat, allowing my toes to dig into the wet sand. And then I inhale another calming breath.
As the waves roll in and out, I can’t help but think about the nightmare I just had.
Wanting to be a teacher was only one of the jobs I dreamed of.
Yet, when I was allowed to go to college, I chose to major in accounting.
According to Andrey, it didn’t matter what my major was because my only future involved marrying Anthony.
But I picked accounting, hoping that maybe, one day, Andrey would see that I was more than a bargaining chip.
I was young and naive, and I thought if he saw my worth, he would view me as an equal.
My thoughts go back to conversations with Kane …
“Didn’t you go to college?”
“… you’re bored with your life.”
He isn’t wrong. I might not have wanted to major in accounting, but I still had hopes and dreams. And what have I done to make them come true?
I wanted to fall in love and get married and have a family, and that’s out of the question, thanks to Kane. But there’s more to life than that.
I’ve been back in Harbor Point for almost a year, and what do I have to show for it?
Tons of clothes and shoes and a Pilates membership?
The waves roll back in, bringing more shells with it. I spot a pretty pink one, but when I reach for it, my eyes go to my engagement ring, and a choked sob bubbles out, the devastation at the way my life is unraveling too much to hold in any longer.
I yank the ring off my finger, and I consider throwing it into the ocean when a shadow appears, making me jump to my feet.
“You shouldn’t be out here by yourself,” Kane says, sounding like he gives a shit about my well-being.
“What’s the worst that will happen?” I scoff, trying to hide my fragile state from him. “I’m taken and forced into a marriage with someone I despise?” I laugh humorlessly. “Oh, wait. That already happened.”
Since I don’t want to talk to him about why I’m out here, I walk back up to the house with him following. Then I go to the bathroom and take a quick shower to rinse the sweat and saltwater and raw emotions off me.
Only when I hear Kane softly snoring through the door do I leave the bathroom and climb back into bed. But between my nightmare and my thoughts on the beach, I can’t sleep, so instead, I grab my phone off the nightstand and unlock it.
I pull up Google and type, What’s involved in owning a Pilates studio?
I might not be able to marry for love, and I’ll probably never be a mother like I dreamed of, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have something for myself.
“Good morning, Brielle. What can I get you?” the perky barista at Lattes and Words asks.
I glance up at the specials board and huff when I see that they’re out of almond milk.
Guess oat milk it is.
“I’ll take an oat milk honey latte and an almond muffin, please.”
“Sure thing.” She inputs it into the computer, and the total pops up.
I reach for my phone, but it’s not in my leggings pocket, like it usually is.
I’m patting the sides of my thighs, trying to locate it so I can pay since I never bring my wallet with me to the Pilates studio, when Nicole appears from out of nowhere, shrieking, “Oh my God!” She grabs my left hand.
“You’re engaged? How did I talk to you several times this weekend and you forgot to mention that?
” She moves my fingers up and down and laughs.
“How do you even lift your hand? It’s so heavy. ”
I yank my hand back with a groan. “Ugh, stop. It’s ostentatious and nothing like one I would’ve picked out. Men who buy rings this size”—I lift my hand to emphasize my point—“have something to prove.”
Nicole’s eyes go big, and she covers her mouth, stifling what I assume is a laugh. When I look at her in confusion, she nods over my shoulder, and I slowly turn around, coming face-to-face with Kane.
“And what is it that I have to prove?” he drawls, crossing his arms over his chest.
When I was running out the door this morning, he said he was going into the office, so I’m not sure when he followed me here, but, oh well, it’s not like I didn’t say anything I didn’t mean.
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “You tell me.”
His jaw tics, and I know I got to him.
Men have such fragile egos, and him knowing that I despise the ring he spent hundreds of thousands on has to irk him.
“You left your phone at home,” he says, handing it to me. “Figured you might need it.”
I take it from him, almost feeling bad that I hurt his feelings.
I scan my phone to pay for my coffee and muffin and then step to the side so the line can keep moving.
“So, when’s the big day?” Nicole asks, trying to ease the tension.
“Valentine’s Day,” I tell her.
“Oh, that’s sweet,” she coos. “Have you decided where you’ll be having it?”
When I glance at Kane, waiting for him to answer, he says, “That’s up to Brielle.”
“Me?” I scoff. “What do I have to do with it?”
Nicole snorts out a laugh, and Kane glares.
“You’re the one planning it,” he says.
“Oh, great,” I hiss. “Not only are you forcing me to marry you, but you’re also making me plan the damn thing? Would you like me to pay for it as well?”
He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a black card. “Put everything on there.”
“Oh!” Nicole squeals. “This will be so much fun. We should book the Mayfair House Garden and—”
I love Nicole, but the woman cannot read a room to save her life.
“You know this is a fake marriage, right?” I whisper so no one will overhear. “We don’t need to do anything special.”
Nicole pouts. “But remember how much fun you had planning Dani and Matteo’s wedding?
And as your maid of honor, it’s my job to make sure you’re a pampered bride.
We can do a spa day … manis and pedis. It will be so much fun.
Plus”—she glances at Kane, still holding his card between his fingers—“he’s paying”—she waggles her brows—“so why not give yourself the wedding of your dreams?”
“Maybe because the wedding of my dreams was supposed to be with the man of my dreams,” I blurt out. Or at the very least, with a man who loves me, I think to myself.
Nicole’s gaze turns sympathetic, and I instantly regret voicing my thoughts. I don’t want anyone to pity me.
When I sneak a glance at Kane, knowing he must have heard what I said, he shows zero emotion, and for some reason, that annoys me.
He knows he’s hurting me by forcing me to marry him, yet he doesn’t give a shit.
He has one goal in mind, and I’m nothing more than a stepping stone to get him to where he wants to be.
Well, fuck him.
“Whatever.” I pluck the card out of his fingers. “In that case, let’s go shopping. I need to buy my maid of honor a special gift.”
Nicole grins, and Kane remains stoic.
We’ll see how stoic he is when I max out his card and show him what he’s getting himself into by marrying me.
Hell, maybe if I spend enough, he’ll realize I’m not worth the hassle and call the whole damn thing off.
“C’mon, bestie,” I say, grabbing my coffee and muffin with one hand and Nicole’s hand with the other. “We have a wedding to plan.”