CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 21
IVY
“What do you think?” I ask Vanessa after getting dressed for the wedding, finally feeling something other than nauseous for the first time in days.
I’ve pulled my hair up, leaving a few soft strands loose. Vanessa insists on curling them, because God forbid I show up with what she calls “grease curls.” She may be an accountant by day, but she’s got a glam team’s worth of talent tucked into her handbag.
“You look beautiful, honey,” she says, already reaching for the curling iron. “Let me just recurl those swirls you call curls and we’ll be good to go.”
I knew it.
“You know, Vanessa, you don’t look so bad yourself,” I say, genuinely impressed. Her long legs make that ruffled dress look custom-made, and her curls are pinned in an elegant updo.
“Ooh, I love your heels,” I add, catching sight of her glassy, Cinderella-style slippers.
“Thanks, love. And I brought you these,” she says, handing me a pair of dressy wedges.
“What’s wrong with my shoes?” I ask, but the answer hits me before the sentence finishes.
They’re hideous. Functional, yes, but not exactly wedding-worthy. I chose them because I didn’t want to risk needing to sprint to the bathroom in heels, but in hindsight… yeah. Mistake.
I take the wedges with a sigh. She helps me buckle them on.
“You know what would look perfect with your dress?” I say, dashing to my bedroom. “My blue bracelet—the one from our cruise.”
I come back and clasp it around her wrist.
“Yes, this is perfect,” she says, admiring it.
Once we’re ready, we head outside—and see a driver waiting for us.
“Oooh, fancy,” I say, turning toward her.
“Girl, just get in. I have to grab my purse from my car. It’s parked out front,” she calls, already jogging away before I can reply.
I reach for the car door handle—only for a strong arm to extend from the back seat.
“May I give you a hand?”
That voice. Soft. Familiar.
“Carter.”
He’s looking up at me with those storm-colored eyes.
“Sure,” I murmur, slipping my hand into his. He helps me into the car, and the driver shuts the door behind me.
It’s quiet at first, the air between us thick. Then he reaches out his hand, palm open.
After a moment of hesitation, I take it.
“You look… gorgeous,” he says.
“Thanks. You too.”
“I guess you have good taste,” he jokes lightly.
“Maybe in looks. Not so much in character,” I fire back.
I can’t bring myself to meet his eyes. Instead, I stare down at my hands resting in my lap, fingers tangled together like they’re holding me together, too.
“I deserve that,” he says, his voice dropping. “Ivy, I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything that happened. About not reaching out. I should’ve trusted you, should’ve believed there was more to the story. I love you. And if you give me another chance, I swear, baby, I will never hurt you again,” he finishes, reaching for my hand.
But I don’t move. Don’t flinch. My hands stay folded in my lap like they’re cemented there.
Because if I let him touch me—I might break. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to put the pieces back together again.
I roll my eyes, heart pounding. “Carter, it’s not just that you didn’t reach out—you ignored every call, every message. I tried. I reached out in every way I could. You think pulling up in a fancy car and dropping a few apologies fixes that? I showed up at your office. Twice. Sat there for hours. And you knew. You saw me. I called your name. You looked right at me from that second-floor balcony—and you walked away. After that, your receptionist said you’d be busy the rest of the day.”
“I was angry, Ivy. Hurt. I thought the woman I loved betrayed me. And I lashed out because I didn’t know what else to do. Please, Ivy, I need you to forgive me.”
“No, Carter. You hurt me. You ghosted me like I never mattered. And I’ve been back and fourth about all of this but now I realize, if it weren’t for this baby, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You got over me. You forgot me the moment you left Hawaii, just like I knew you would. I was just someone to pass the time with, just admit it. If you really loved me, even if you thought I betrayed you—you would’ve fought for me. But I messed with your business. With your money. That’s what mattered.”
I open the door to leave, but he grabs my hand.
“Ivy, I know I screwed up. But I do love you. You mean everything to me.”
I chuckle bitterly. Shake my head. Slowly, I slide my hand free.
“Goodbye, Carter. I promise I’ll call you when your son is born.”
I step out and spot Vanessa, her expression caught somewhere between fear and guilt.
“I guess you had something to do with this?” I ask.
“I take it that didn’t go the way he planned?”
I want to be mad. But what’s the point? “Are we still going to the wedding, or was this all just some stunt to raise my blood pressure?”
“There’s still a wedding,” she says gently, looping her arm through mine. “Come on. Let’s take my car.”
We walk in silence. When we’re buckled in, she asks, “Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
The ride stays quiet. But comforting.
The moment we arrive at the venue, I feel wildly out of place. Elegant suits, couture gowns, and champagne laughter swirl around us. Vanessa fits right in—5’8” of caramel-skinned perfection, her hazel eyes glowing under the lights, her red lipstick bold and flawless.
I stick close as she waits for her boss—or should I say, her boo.
We take our seats. The ceremony is stunning. Grand chandeliers glint overhead, and the city skyline sparkles through tall windows. White orchids hang from tall vases at the altar, and soft violin music plays under the hum of love and money.
Then the priest speaks. “Nathan Wolfe, do you take Anika Cameron to be your wife?”
He says yes. The crowd erupts.
“Anika Cameron, do you take Nathan Wolfe to be your husband?”
She says yes, and again, applause.
They kiss—and that’s when I notice her baby bump.
She gets to marry the father of her child. She gets her fairytale. Her happy ending. And the way he looks at her?
Only one man’s ever looked at me like that.
Touched me like that.
Made me feel…
I blink hard. Rub my belly. Try to swallow the ache rising in my throat.
Vanessa must notice. She gently rubs my hand.
God, I don’t know what I did to deserve a friend like her. And even though she set me up tonight, maybe she did it out of love. Maybe she knew Carter deserved the chance to speak.
She knows me too well. She must’ve seen something in him I couldn’t see through all the heartbreak.
I glance over at her, then smile and rest my head on her shoulder, just for a moment. A silent thank you. Just for being her.
When the ceremony ends, the couple walks back down the aisle and the crowd cheers them on. I’m crying and I don’t even know these people.
“Remind me to leave you at home next time, bestie,” Vanessa whispers, handing me a tissue.
At the reception, her date is already at our table. The moment he sees her, he stands, eyes glued to her like she hung the damn moon.
“Wow, Vanessa. You look stunning,” he says.
She blushes. Her whole caramel complexion deepens despite the makeup.
She introduces us, though we’ve met before. I play along, saving the sass for later, during our promised soak in her hot tub back in Staten Island after the wedding.
Hors d’oeuvres come out, and we mingle. I keep the others at our table entertained so Vanessa and her date can talk.
After dinner, the bride asks everyone to hit the dance floor. Most people go. Vanessa gives me the look.
I shoot her a death glare that says “you better dance, woman,” and she grins, slipping away with her man.
I stay seated. Content to blend into the background.
Until—
“Ivy.”
I freeze and turn to find him standing there.
Carter.