35. Alba
THIRTY-FIVE
ALBA
I’d been striding toward the washroom hallway, and then James was there. It shouldn’t have shocked me to see him—to hear his voice calling out my name—but it did. He was still as tall and green-eyed and gorgeous as usual, even more striking in his evening jacket and white tie.
When his hand closed around my arm to drag me down the hallway, his head ducked away from the crowd, I let him.
It was muscle memory, maybe. We’d circled around each other for so long.
He’d promised me the world, and I’d imagined scenarios just like this.
Where we might steal a moment, where I might finally take the leap and be with him.
I imagined walking in on his arm and making it public.
Instead, all I’d had were stolen conversations. Messages. Phone calls. Promises. I’d lived a life of fantasy, crafting a relationship between the two of us that never existed.
He’d only wanted me as a stepping stone into a life that he thought I could provide.
“Let go of me,” I finally said, snapping out of my stupor.
“Alba, babe,” he crooned, ducking his head. “I’m sorry, but you just look so beautiful, and?—”
“What do you want?”
He had the audacity to look wounded. “I just wanted to talk to you. I miss talking to you. Things ended so abruptly between us?—”
“Did you not get the message when I blocked you?”
“That was a joke,” he said, blinking, looking completely innocent. He tilted his head, a hint of the smile I used to love so much curling his lips. “You didn’t mean that. You told me you wanted to see me.”
“In hell,” I said, even though it was Deena who had written the words. “I told you I would see you in hell.”
His eyes sharpened. “That was a joke,” he insisted. “But it’s okay. I forgive you.”
“I think you might be insane.”
“Alba.”
“I can’t believe this act worked on me before.”
“What act? You look great, by the way?—”
“I don’t want to hear this.” I threw my hands up. “Leave me alone, James.”
“I didn’t expect to see you here.” His voice held a different note. Something that made the back of my neck twinge, like there was danger that my body sensed but I hadn’t yet consciously detected. James took a step toward me.
I stood my ground. “And how did you get through the front doors? I’m guessing you were marked down on the list as, ‘Yvette Williams…And Guest?’”
It was a catty thing to say, and I knew that the pop of my eyebrow would infuriate him.
And I realized, in that moment, just how much I’d held back during our “relationship.” I’d made myself small and pleasant and likable, because I was so desperate for his attention—for any attention.
I’d hidden my true personality, because I didn’t think I was lovable.
It took a year of being destitute, of picking myself up off the street and surviving, to learn my own worth. It took a man like Vaughn to show me that I could be loved even if I hid no part of myself.
But this man in front of me? He’d never known the real me. He’d been able to see how desperate for affection I’d been, and he’d used it to worm his way into my life.
I wasn’t innocent; I knew that. I’d reveled in his attention—but I’d done it because my entire life up until that point had been an exercise in hiding my true self, in changing myself so I would finally be lovable.
No more.
James must’ve seen that truth written in my eyes, because his mouth twisted. “You were always so full of yourself, Alba. I heard you were washing dishes at a sandwich restaurant. How long did that last before you whored yourself out to the first man who could put you in a pretty dress?”
His words echoed my father’s. That ugly, cutting insult flung at me with the intention to hurt.
A year and a half ago, I’d been wounded by it. Now?
Now, I was stronger. All I saw was a small man who had to bring people down to make himself feel better.
I couldn’t believe I’d cared about him. I couldn’t believe I’d been swindled by him.
I’d loved him. Now, having felt what I felt for Vaughn, the love I had for James seemed like a cheap imitation.
James didn’t cherish me. He didn’t even know me.
He’d preyed on my loneliness, my desperation, and made me feel special for the first time in my life.
But he didn’t know about my childhood vegetable garden. He didn’t grin when I sassed him, or listen when I talked about hemlines and lapel widths. James didn’t know the first thing about me, except for my last name.
Shame boiled through me, but there was nothing I could do about my past mistakes. All I could do was be better. Do better. I could be the kind of partner Vaughn deserved: loyal and loving, ready to stand beside him always.
Cole had forgiven me, and I wondered… Would I ever be able to forgive myself?
In that moment, standing before the man who’d used me and discarded me, I straightened.
I couldn’t forgive myself quite yet, but I could draw a boundary that should’ve been drawn a long time ago.
Chin high, I looked James in the eyes and said, “I don’t want to see you or talk to you. Don’t contact me ever again.”
James’s eyes narrowed, but I didn’t give him the chance to respond.
I spun on my heels and ducked into the bathroom.
I strode to the middle of the tiled area in front of the mirrors and let out a shuddering breath.
Pressing my hands to my face, I tried to gather myself, but my lungs heaved and my legs trembled with unspent adrenaline.
Gasping breaths sawed in and out of me, and I tried to pull myself together.
Soon, I’d have to go back out there and pretend that everything was fine.
“Alba?”
My head jerked up. Bonnie was there with another woman, one who looked vaguely familiar from her circle of friends. Dani, I remembered. Wide-eyed, I stared at the two of them before turning to the mirror to salvage my streaked makeup.
“Are you okay?” Bonnie asked quietly.
I nodded, hands trembling as I pawed through my clutch for my compact. “I’m fine. It’s just—a lot. Being here is a lot.”
“Can I get you a glass of water?”
“That’s okay.” I gave Bonnie a tight smile in the mirror. “I just ran into…someone I wasn’t expecting to see again.”
Dani came closer. She wore a dark blue dress and a glittering diamond choker. “Do we need to kick him out?”
I shook my head. “No. I just need a second.”
Bonnie squeezed my arm, then pulled a tissue from her purse for me. My bottom lip trembled as I accepted it, and I shook my head, embarrassed. “I wasn’t expecting you to be nice to me.”
Bonnie frowned. “What? Why?”
“Cole and me…the breakup…”
“That’s between you and him,” Bonnie said, waving a hand. “He’s never had a bad word to say about you. All he said was that you two weren’t right for each other.”
Throat tight, I nodded. “That’s nice of him to say, all things considered. I wasn’t a good fiancée to him. I thought I was doing what was expected, but…” I trailed off, not knowing how to explain.
“Well. That’s in the past,” Dani pronounced, pulling a small granola bar from her purse and thrusting it at me.
I took it, blinking. “Um. Thanks?”
“Ever since having kids, I’ve carried snacks everywhere. They really do solve ninety percent of problems. Eat it. You’ll feel better.”
It was such a small act of kindness—and so opposite to what anyone in my old circle of so-called friends would have done—that I couldn’t help the teary laugh that burbled through me. “Thank you,” I replied.
“Now. Do you need us to stay with you, or should we guard the door so you have a minute to yourself?” Bonnie asked.
“I’ll take the minute,” I whispered.
Bonnie squeezed my arm again, and the two of them walked out the door, leaving me alone.
I fixed my makeup, inhaled the granola bar, and then stood in the mirror until I could stand straight and bear the idea of facing all those people.
When I pulled the door open, Bonnie and Dani nodded at me, then accompanied me back into the main room.
They greeted people and mingled while I did my best to paste a smile to my face, my eyes scanning for Vaughn.
All I wanted to do was to run back to him.
I realized, standing there in a throng of bejeweled people, that Vaughn was everything to me. I loved him so much it hardly seemed possible.
Cole had been the man my parents wanted me to marry. He’d been the “right” choice, the man who could stand at my side through events like this one. James had been the man I thought I wanted. Someone who made me feel special, who took me away from the gilded cage where I’d been trapped.
Vaughn wasn’t with me for my money or my connections. He wasn’t with me because that’s what was expected. He’d found me at my worst, and I’d still been enough for him.
He made me a better, stronger person, because he knew the real me. I wanted to pay that back a thousandfold. I wanted to find him, drag him to a dark corner, and show him just how much it meant to me that he’d chosen me—the real me.
Buoyed by the rush of emotion, I separated from the pack of people surrounding Dani and Bonnie and drifted through the milling crowd.
I scanned for a man a head taller than everyone else.
My heart thumped at the thought of seeing him, watching the smile break over his face, and feeling the weight and warmth of his arm come around me.
He was my safe harbor, my shelter from the storm of life.
A smile burst over my face when I saw him leaning against the wall about halfway down the room.
He hadn’t spotted me, but he was scanning the crowd just as I was.
I sped up, but a crowd of people drifted in front of me, and I lost sight of him.
I ducked around voluminous skirts, teetering on my lavender heels, trying to peer around broad backs and tall updos.
There! A flash of him, still scanning the crowd. My smile widened as my heart beat for him—because I knew that as soon as I was in front of him, I’d tell him how I felt. I’d tell him those three little words and hope that he wanted to say them back.
I was so intent on Vaughn and on the words that wanted to burst from me that I failed to sense danger approaching until it was too late.
One second, Vaughn was in my sights, and the path to him seemed to be clearing—and the next, my mother and father were blocking the way.
I stumbled to a stop, barely catching myself before barreling into the both of them.
My mother clicked her tongue. “Graceful as always, daughter of mine,” she taunted.
My father said nothing. He just watched me with blue eyes that looked like mine, his white hair combed back from his face, his chin lifted high.
“Who is that man you walked in with?” my mother continued, her voice dropping as she flapped her hand at me. “Really, Alba, at Arlo Noble’s gala, you?—”
“You dared to show your face,” my father finished for her, his deep voice resonating in my bones. He looked me up and down, his lips curling almost into a sneer.
The urge to shrink into myself was too strong to resist. My shoulders curled as my breaths came faster. All feelings of love and light and happiness seemed to evaporate. Vaughn was impossibly far away—too far to save me from this confrontation.
“Stand up straight. You’re embarrassing yourself,” my father hissed. “After over a year without a word, this is how you greet us?”
The situation was painfully familiar. The two of them, smiling at everyone else, hissing poison in my ears.
My mother impressing upon me the importance of the man who stood beside me.
My father making me feel like I wasn’t good enough, then ambling off to talk about golf with one of his business associates.
It would be so easy to crumple. After all, that’s what I’d always done before. I’d toed the family line. I’d gotten engaged to the appropriate man. I’d dressed and acted exactly as was expected.
But that was then—and this was now.
For over a year, I’d been on my own. I hadn’t had their protection—or their voices in my ear to tell me exactly what they wanted me to do.
In that year, I hadn’t died. I’d suffered, yes, but I’d accepted that as balance for the way I’d behaved before. But now I stood here, stronger, more resilient, and surer of myself than ever before.
They’d already done the worst. They’d cut me off from everything and everyone I knew. They’d shown me just how conditional their love was.
Now, thanks to Vaughn, I knew what love really felt like. I knew that there was safety in love. There was a home that would always be open, somewhere to go back to. Even if I hadn’t wanted to come here tonight. If I hadn’t performed for him the way he’d asked. Even then, he’d still accept me.
So I did as my father asked and straightened my shoulders.
But when I met his gaze, I watched him frown at the look in my eyes, and I lifted my chin to match his pose.
“Over a year without a word, and not nearly long enough for my liking,” I said, hardly recognizing my own voice.
It was the voice I’d learned in etiquette lessons, the glacial voice used for the worst putdown—but now it was infused with the strength I’d forged since I’d been on my own.
I looked down my nose at my father, then at my mother, who stared at me with wide eyes. Her cheeks were red, and she clenched her clutch with white-knuckled fingers. At least she’d stopped flapping.
Even if this was the last time I saw them, I would be at peace. The realization settled over me, and I knew that this was the end of their power over me.
I knew what real love felt like now. I knew I didn’t need to stand in ballrooms and mingle with the monied class in order to be happy.
All I needed was my independence—and Vaughn.
Saying a silent goodbye to my parents—and to the woman I used to be—I gave them both the tiniest of nods. “Mother. Father. Excuse me. There’s someone I need to speak to.”
There were three important words I had to speak, now more than ever.