Chapter 45 #2
Her words hit profoundly, the world tilting dangerously as I process them. My knees buckle slightly, and I grip the back of the chair to steady myself, the room spinning in a dizzying whirl.
I feel my face pale, my mind reeling as I stare at Jamie. “You brought the wedding forward,” I grit out. “Why?”
“Just couldn’t wait for eternity with you—”
“Bullshit,” I snap.
“Thought I’d keep it quiet until the last minute. No chance of you running off again.” His smirk widens, and he taunts, “What’s the matter? Backing out?”
And then I see it. The bulge of a gun under his suit jacket.
The panic surges, hot and suffocating, as I realise I’m back where I started: trapped, bound, more than I ever was, with Harry’s memory fading like a dream I can’t hold onto.
Tomorrow, I’ll be bound into this mess, trading my heart for his life.
Jamie’s grin deepens at the sight of my despair. Liv begins to measure me, her tape measure cold against my skin.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Jamie says, pushing off from the door. “Make sure she looks perfect, Liv. It’s only forever we’re talking about.”
He turns round to leave, sauntering into the hall as though it’s no big deal at all.
Barely thinking, I grab the seamstress scissors and charge forwards, swinging with all the fury boiling inside me. “You fucking—”
He whirls round, enclosing his fingers round my wrist, the scissors a millimetre from carving his fucking eyeballs out.
“Ah, ah, ah.” He tuts, eyes flaring with that familiar rage. “One word from me, Gigi, and he’s gone. That’s all it takes to end this. Is that really what you want?”
Anger fuels me so intensely my grip falters on the scissors. He knows he’s won. He knows there’s nothing I’ll do. He releases my wrist slowly, his fingers trailing down my arm in a way that makes me grimace.
“Only forever we’re talking about.” His words are like venom.
Liv takes the scissors, chatting about hemlines and fabrics, her hands moving over me with mechanical precision.
I want to spit in Jamie’s face. I want to fight back. But I stand helpless as he walks away.
The rest of the day blurs into a haze of forced normality, Jamie’s shadow following me everywhere.
Hours later, I’m at the pre-wedding dinner, surrounded by guests who chatter and laugh as if everything’s perfect.
The room is a glittering nightmare, bright flowers a vibrant reminder of the life I’m supposed to be celebrating.
I nod numbly at the endless stream of well-wishers, my cheeks aching from the fake smiles I plaster on.
I can’t take it anymore.
I mumble an excuse about needing to freshen up, my voice sounding distant, like it’s coming from someone else. The guests barely glance my way, too engrossed in their toasts.
Hudson steps into my path, his body an impenetrable wall. He opens his mouth to speak.
I shake my head. “Not now.”
I bypass him, my heels clicking on the marble floor. I quicken my steps until I’m at the end of the hallway, pushing open the dressing-room door. I slam it shut behind me, the sound reverberating through the small space.
I sink to the floor, my back against the cool wall, burying my face in my hands.
“Fuck,” I whisper to the empty room.
And then it comes – every bit of emotion I’ve been containing since my mother died. My chest tightens, each breath a struggle as waves of nausea wash over me. Hot tears finally spill over, streaming down my cheeks. The kind you can’t breathe through.
Helpless. I’m fucking helpless.
The sobs come harder, my gut twisting into knots. I can barely breathe. I throw my back against the wall, struggling to keep my control, my vision shaking with the impact of my skull.
Breathe, for fuck’s sake.
My hands are shaky as I wipe the tears, drawing in a sharp breath. I force a calmness through me, pulling my phone from my bag and hesitating before I click on the number Jack left. I press it to my ear, holding my breath.
It rings twice before his voice crackles through, like he’s in the middle of something he can’t afford to stop. “G? Is everything okay?”
“How long?” I rush out. “How long until this is over?”
“You’ve only just got home—”
My words are laced with desperation. “How long?”
Jack hesitates, then he says, “Few weeks at least, maybe four. It depends when the buyers come in.”
“Sooner. I need it sooner.”
There’s a pause.
“I can’t. I’m so sorry.”
The silence is so loud, the weight on my chest so heavy, my grip weakens against the phone. I may as well not even be holding it.
These fragile months that I barely survived have extended to a lifetime. Tears blind me as I stare ahead into nothing.
My mum stayed with a man she hated for twenty years to keep her children safe. Will I survive that long under Jamie’s hands? Would he kill me to give himself access to the full fortune?
Jack’s voice is a distant mumble. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine.” The words hitch in the back of my throat, and I cough to clear it, prepared to end the call. “I’ll speak to you later.”
“G?”
I raise the phone back to my ear, hearing him pause.
“I’m not sure what’s going on between the two of you, but Harry is a good guy.”
I smile sadly, a tear slipping from the corner of my eye.
I know.
I confess quietly, “It’s my wedding tomorrow.”
A momentary pause, and then, “You never said anything.”
I turn to the entryway as the door opens. Hudson stands there, suited in designer as usual, but now there’s something else. Sadness, or maybe guilt. I grip the phone tighter, staring straight at him.
“I’ll speak to you later,” I say into the phone. “I’ll see you soon.”
I hang up, dropping the phone into my lap.
“I’m so sorry this is happening to you, Gigi,” Hudson finally says. “I wish there was something I could do.”