Prologue #2
I sank down onto the sofa opposite my fiancé and twisted the engagement ring nervously on my finger.
“I know I’m late again.” But it wasn’t like I was the only one who was ever late home from work.
Of the two of us, Will was the one who constantly changed our plans because of his job.
Will owned his own company, a thriving business.
He worked in exposure management and traveled around the country, and sometimes abroad, identifying and assessing risks to organizations, i.e.
, cyber threats, terrorism, natural catastrophes.
Last year the company’s gross profit was five million pounds.
And it was growing. I was proud of him. Though I could do without him telling everyone how much his company made last year.
In fact, everywhere we went lately, all Will did was talk numbers and income.
He’d always been ambitious since I’d known him, and I loved that about him, but this past year his drive for financial gain had become somewhat of an obsession.
It was also the reason we’d made no plans toward our wedding. We hadn’t even had an engagement party yet, and we’d been engaged for eighteen months. I had close friends and family who hadn’t met him!
“That’s not what this is about.” Will took a shuddering breath, his eyes washing over my face. “Christ, you make this hard when you walk in here looking like that.”
Make what hard? I felt nauseated.
Will had been distant for weeks.
I’d ignored it because I’d hoped it was just work that was keeping him busy.
“Looking like what?”
“So beautiful I sometimes can’t believe you’re real.”
When we first met, his compliments had filled the empty place inside me that constantly battled a sense of unworthiness.
But over the last three years, my feelings about his focus on my outward appearance had grown complex.
Sometimes I no longer knew how his compliments made me feel.
Maybe because I was obsessed with my appearance to the point of anxiousness, and his preoccupation with it only worsened my hyperfocus on my exterior presentation.
And not for the reasons people might think.
“What’s going on?”
Will nodded nervously. “You … uh … you know Birgitta?”
Instantly, I stiffened.
Birgitta was Will’s ex-girlfriend from university, a Swedish international student at Edinburgh.
They broke up because she returned home after graduation.
Then, a year ago, Birgitta moved back to Edinburgh for a job, and she and Will struck up a friendship.
It made me uncomfortable because it was clear the Swede was not over Will, and she treated me with icy politeness.
“Nothing has happened,” Will hurried to assure me. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
I wanted to be relieved but felt increasing panic instead. “Okay …”
“But … there are … there are strong feelings still.”
A hollow hurt expanded across my chest. “From you or her?”
Will grimaced guiltily. “From us both. I tried to deny it, but … she and I have been meeting for lunch every week and talking for ages on the phone … and I realized I still have feelings for her.”
I could barely hear past the blood rushing in my ears as I tried to remain calm. “You’ve been carrying on an emotional affair with her.”
He dared to flinch. “If you want to label it as such. Though it was never my intention.”
“I’m labeling it as such because that’s what it fucking is.” Tears burned my eyes as I stood to move away from him.
“Don’t swear, it’s crass.”
I whirled on him in outrage. “Fuck. You.”
He sighed heavily and then nodded. “Sorry.”
I began to pace as visions of the safe future that had been laid out before me wavered at this news.
Will wasn’t perfect. But I hadn’t been looking for an idealistic romance.
Maybe as a teenager in the flush of first love with Charlie, my high school boyfriend, I’d thought it possible.
But that fell apart, and this person I’d loved was suddenly gone, and it reminded me too of …
I just … I decided I didn’t want to go through life experiencing that over and over again.
I’d wanted someone steady. Someone who had control over every aspect of his life so he’d never bring chaos into mine.
I’d had enough chaos to last a lifetime.
Will made me feel secure. Sometimes we’d be in the middle of a mundane task and he’d pull me into his strong arms, and a peace and calm unlike anything I’d ever known would wash over me. I felt loved and safe. And I thought … I thought I’d get to feel that way for the rest of my life.
This … this wasn’t what I’d ever expected from him.
“What do you want me to say?” My lips trembled as I held back tears, defensively crossing my arms over my chest. If I looked at his handsome face, I’d cry, so I stared out his large windows at the rooftops of the Georgian buildings across the street.
The clouds above them hung heavy and gray. A typical spring evening in Edinburgh.
Yet not typical.
A typical evening meant curling up beside Will on his uncomfortable sofa with a plate of healthy Thai food I didn’t particularly enjoy, watching a documentary until I could safely excuse myself to read the latest bestselling thriller novel.
Then Will would come to bed, and we’d have sex.
Sometimes I’d come; sometimes I’d fake it.
Will always came. It hadn’t mattered to me because I didn’t care about the sex.
I adored the intimacy. The expression on his face as he moved inside me, like I was everything in that moment.
The way he whispered he loved me before I fell asleep in his arms. That was the part I held on to.
“I need time.” Will stood to face me. “Marriage is a huge deal, Maia. And I do love you. But … I’m still in love with Birgitta too. So … I’m asking you to give me some time with her … to figure out if she’s who I want.”
My jaw dropped.
“You’re asking me to step aside so you can fuck your ex for an indeterminable amount of time to decide whether you want me or you want her?”
His eyes flashed with anger. “You know that’s not what I mean.”
Was this actually happening? “You want me to wait patiently for you to decide if you love me the most?”
“If you love me and want a future with me, I don’t think it’s unreasonable.”
Oh my … I gaped at this man who I was realizing was either a freaking narcissist or the most entitled wanker who’d ever lived.
The saddest part was that he didn’t even realize he was plummeting me back to the worst thing that had ever happened to me.
My mother finally choosing her addiction over me.
I hadn’t been enough for her. Not enough to fight it.
Will didn’t know about my mum’s addiction, though.
Suddenly, looking at him was like looking at Mum. And I felt the very opposite of safe as the tears spilled over without my control.
“Maia—” His face crumpled, his eyes brightening with tears as he reached for me. “Please don’t cry.”
“Don’t touch me!” I stumbled away from him, wiping furiously at the salt water dripping down my cheeks.
“Maia, please. Just think about what I’m asking. Please.”
How could this be?
How had everything changed in a matter of minutes?
The terrified wee girl in me wanted to plead with him to take it back, to pick me. Pick me! I wanted to scream.
The words sent me spiraling back in time to a day I’d like to forget. It knocked my breath out of my chest.
I’d begged someone who was supposed to love me once before. And when she laughed in my face, I’d promised myself, never again. Instead, I’d finally battled my sense of self-worth long enough to be brave enough to go find my dad. It was the best decision I ever made.
So, I shoved down my fears and panic and held tight to my pride. “Do you honestly think I’m going to wait around for you to decide that I’m worthy of your love?”
Will shook his head. “That’s not what I’m asking.”
“Aye, it is.” I reached down to grab my bag from the couch. Then I slipped off the engagement ring and placed it on the kitchen peninsula. I’d never really liked the ring anyway. It was too big and in your face. “Have a nice life with Birgitta.”
I turned to go, and Will grabbed my biceps, spinning me back to him. His guilty expression was now harsh with desperation. “No. Stay and talk to me about this.”
I calmly but firmly yanked my arm out of his hold. “There’s nothing left to talk about. The minute you asked me to wait for you to decide if you loved me best was the minute you lost me.”
“Damn your pride, Maia.” Will searched my face, a frantic panic in his eyes that didn’t make sense. If he loved me … why?
I took him in. His dark blond hair was always styled to perfection.
The hard physique beneath his crisp shirt and expensive suit trousers.
While I swam three times a week, Will hit the gym every morning before work.
He ate clean. Didn’t drink. Didn’t smoke.
He had a boyishly handsome face. The most beautiful blue eyes framed by thick dark lashes.
Three years of memories tightened like a vise around my chest. Three years of kisses and hugs and sweet words whispered in my ear.
Him introducing me to people with this glowing look of pride.
But beneath his supposed love for me, he’d been holding on to Birgitta all this time. And he wanted me to wait around until he’d decided which one of us he loved the most. I wondered whether Birgitta had agreed to such uncertainty.
Well, I wasn’t Birgitta.
I had more fucking pride than that. “You’re not some prize to be won, Will.
I used to think so. Until this moment. But you don’t get to have your cake and eat it too.
If you loved me, you wouldn’t even think about asking this of me.
” I shook my head in disgust. At him. At me.
At three years wasted. “You don’t love me.
You just like the way I look on your arm. ”
“Damn you for saying that,” he bit out.
“Damn me? What else am I supposed to think? ‘You make this hard walking in looking like that.’ Clearly, this”—I gestured to my face and body—“was the only thing about me you actually loved.”
“Maybe because that’s all you give me. You for damn sure never give me you.
You never talk about your mother, about your past or about anything real.
It’s all about appearances. Your career is all about appearances too, for Christ’s sake.
Why do you think I even started turning to Birgitta in the first place?
She has depth. She’s more than a pretty face.
She doesn’t spend hours in the bathroom looking at herself in the mirror or deciding what dress will look best on a tiny percentage of the female population.
Birgitta does clinical research that helps people.
She’s smart and driven and more than her face.
Did you ever think your vanity is the reason I even considered Birgitta again? ”
His words crushed me. Were so physically debilitating, I stumbled back from him.
Will’s eyes widened, instant remorse etching into his features. “Maia … fuck. I didn’t … I’m sorry.”
Fresh tears fell, and I hated him for those too. I tried to get my breath back as I wiped at them.
“Maia, I’m so sorry.” He reached for me again.
I slapped his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me.
” I glared at him, disbelieving I had been ready to marry this arsehole.
He didn’t know a thing about me. “You have no idea why I am the way I am, but if you think I give a shit about my appearance because of vanity, you know nothing about me. You don’t know what it’s like to have grown up the way I did.
To have someone else’s shame crawl on your skin.
To have people look at you like you’re trash, and not for anything you did.
” I brushed impatiently at my quickly falling tears.
My chest hurt so fucking badly, I was surprised I could force out the words.
“The hair, the makeup, the clothes … it’s just armor. It makes me feel safe.”
Will gaped at me. “Why have you never told me that? If I’d known that—”
“It doesn’t matter now.” I scrubbed my cheeks, knowing I was taking all my makeup with it and, for once, not giving a shit.
“It does. I want to know.” He looked like he was going to move toward me again, so I physically retreated.
“No.” I shook my head, dread a dark pit in my stomach. “You don’t get to have it.”
“Maia—”
“I could never marry you now. Only a narcissist would ask his fiancée to wait around while he fucked another woman so he could decide whether said fiancée was worthy of him.”
He flinched again, taking a step back.
“Goodbye, Will.”
“Maia—”
“I’ll arrange to get my things later.”
“Maia, please.”
I had only so much strength left, and I wanted to walk out with my head held high and my eyes clear. I strode across the room, my stiletto heels stabbing his precious hardwood floors, and I slammed out of the flat so hard, I heard his period windows vibrate.
I hurried through the streets of New Town, not meeting anyone’s eyes, desperate to get back to my flat before the avalanche of emotions collapsed over me.
As soon as my flat door closed behind me, I let the pain that had built up in my chest out in harsh, sobbing cries. And when the pain became too much to bear on my own, I fumbled for my phone and thumbed through my contacts, the names blurry through my tears.
After a few rings, she picked up. “My? How are you, sweetheart?”
“Grace,” I sobbed my stepmother’s name.
“My, what’s happened?”
I couldn’t speak.
“Are you home?”
“Y-yes,” I forced out.
“I’m on my way.”