Chapter Three
Mitch
Gasps rang through the air, drowning the soft moans and whimpering coming from the speakers.
Bile rose in his throat, but he couldn’t look away from the screen.
Hunter’s wife, Caroline, rushed up to the altar, almost tripping over her billowing emerald dress. “Switch it off!” She directed her petrified voice at no one in particular.
Mitch’s feet, clad in shiny leather dress shoes, were glued to the marble floor. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed against a burning stone. Fire ravaged his lungs.
He thought he was about to pass out.
The video cut off; the screen went black.
Rational thoughts struggled to surface amid his heartbeat thundering in his ears.
Vaguely, he was aware of Hunter’s voice carrying in the chapel, the rustle of dresses and shuffling of feet as people got up from their seats.
But his eyes had glazed over, and his thoughts had jumbled into a ball of thorns, pricking at the edges of his consciousness. This had to be a sick joke, right?
Mitch flinched when a hand touched his forearm.
“Let’s get you out of here,” Hunter said in a low voice.
Words wouldn’t form at the back of his mouth, but he let Hunter usher him away from the chapel.
He had no idea where they were going. The only thing he could concentrate on was putting one foot in front of the other as the horrible realization sank in: Eve cheated on him on their wedding day. With her client.
Before he knew what was happening, Hunter had sat him down and shoved a generous glass of single malt whisky into his hand—since meeting Hunter, he’d only drink Scotch.
His fingers wrapped around it on instinct, and he tipped his head back, downing its contents. The alcohol burned his throat and warmed the blood flowing through his numb body. He shook the daze off, looking around his surroundings.
Hunter had brought him to the hotel bar, empty except for them and a bartender. They’d hired the entire complex for the wedding.
His stomach churned as his gaze landed on silver trays laden with canapés, ready to be served to their guests during the drinks reception. He cleared his throat. “I need to tell the staff to help themselves to the food. Otherwise, it’s all going to go to waste.”
Hunter stood. “I’ll do it. You have another drink.” He nodded to the bartender, who refilled Mitch’s glass.
Mitch gave him a stiff nod, lifting the glass to his lips. How many drinks would it take to erase the image of Eve’s legs wrapped around Lionel Webster, making the sounds he thought he would be the last one to ever coax from her for the rest of their lives?
His knuckles whitened on the glass.
A lot. That was a safe estimate.
The double doors swung open, and he turned at the sound of heels click-clacking on the wooden floor.
Caroline fidgeted with her gold bracelet as she approached the bar, a stormy expression on her face. She stopped by the stool next to Mitch, resting her hands on top of the bar. She didn’t even need to say anything; her face said it all.
He sighed. “Is it Armageddon out there?”
“Your parents had a shouting match with Eve’s. I won’t repeat what went on but … it wasn’t very pleasant, as you can imagine.” She winced. “Eve wants to talk to you.”
Mitch snorted into his glass. “I have nothing to say to her.”
Why would she want to talk to him? It was over. She had humiliated him in the worst way imaginable. He never thought he had to worry about her cheating on him. They were happy. The sex was good. Everything else was great. Or so he had thought.
He loved her, damn it.
“Do you want me to tell her that?” Caroline asked.
“Tell her to take her shit out of my apartment. I don’t want to see any of it, or her, ever again.”
The door swung open again.
“Don’t worry. It’ll be out of there today.”
He recognized Eve’s voice straight away. Only an hour earlier, it had been the sweetest melody in the world, but now the sound felt like an injection of liquid nitrogen straight into his heart.
“Caroline, can you give us a moment?” Eve asked.
Caroline touched Mitch’s forearm. “Are you okay to talk to her?”
“I’ll be fine. Thanks, Caroline,” he replied.
Caroline squeezed his forearm and then her click-clacking heels walked away.
“Mitch,” Eve said, her voice sorrowful. “I’m sorry.”
Anger bubbled in the pit of his stomach. “You’re sorry?’ He turned to look at her, his chest heaving. “You’re sorry? What the fuck, Eve?”
A mask of weird stoic calm descended over her face. She perched herself up on the bar stool next to him, the swish of her white satin dress driving a knife deeper into his heart with every flicker of movement.
“How could you?” Mitch croaked, fighting to keep furious tears at bay.
Eve took a deep breath. “I’ve been sleeping with Lionel for over six months now. It’s … It just happened, when we were on tour.”
“Six months!” He blinked, taking in her smudged make-up and messed-up hair.
She was meant to be the last woman he was ever going to kiss.
They were meant to fall asleep in each other’s arms until the end of time, take turns getting up at night when they had children, and most of all, they were meant to be there for each other.
Always. Now it seemed like all those hopeful plans had been one-sided.
Eve bit her lip and swallowed, but didn’t say anything.
He must’ve been the dumbest of dumb idiots, as he hadn’t suspected anything.
“What is he even doing here?” Mitch distinctively remembered that Lionel wasn’t invited. Eve insisted on keeping her professional and private lives separate—what a fucking irony that was now.
She remained quiet.
“Answer me, damn it. I think I deserve at least that much.”
“He came to tell me he loves me. He asked me not to marry you, to leave and be with him.”
“And is that why you made a complete fool out of me? Because you love him too?”
His chest constricted, every word a needle piercing his lungs. If she said “yes”, it’d hurt him even more. An additional epic insult poked into his already brutally broken heart. But at least if it was about love, maybe he could somehow rationalize what had happened. Maybe he could even understand.
Stop it. There’s no excuse for what she did. Get a grip.
“That was the last time. I broke things off with him. He completely misunderstood our arrangement.” Eve paused. “I don’t love him.”
Mitch let out a distorted laugh. “Wow. I mean … Wow.” He shook his head, placing both palms on top of the mahogany bar. “I don’t even know what to say.”
Except that he did, but none of the adjectives he had were ones he’d ever call a woman, even in this situation. He wouldn’t lower himself to that.
Eve shrugged. She fucking shrugged, and Mitch wanted to scream. While his life, their carefully planned future, had fallen apart, she didn’t seem bothered.
“You don’t have to say anything. I know I screwed up and that it’s over between us,” she said.
He snorted, again. That was an understatement. She’d carelessly doused his heart in gasoline and thrown a lit match without looking back.
“But don’t act like it’s all my fault. I tried; I really did. You never fully let me in.”
Confusion washed through him, like someone had tipped a cold bucket of water over his head. “What are you talking about?”
Eve gave him a sad smile. “You kept talking about the future, making all these plans, saying all the right things, but I could tell your heart wasn’t in it. We were great on the surface, but I’ve always felt like you’ve kept me at arm’s length when it came to really knowing you.”
“You can’t seriously be trying to blame this on me—”
“I’m not. I am sorry, for what it’s worth.”
“It’s not worth anything right now.”
Her chin dipped in a solemn nod. “I suspected as much. Face it, Mitch. You’ve always had some walls around your heart. You gave me pieces of yourself, but never all of you. Something was always missing.”
Bitter acid burned his palate. His first instinct was to get defensive and snap back, but he thought better of it.
It wouldn’t change anything. Eve had cheated on him.
She had been cheating for months. He wondered briefly how many of his calls or texts went unanswered when she was on tour with Lionel, because the two of them were together.
Nausea rose in his mouth. He preferred to stay ignorant of the details.
“I wanted to grow old with you, Eve. I loved you,” he choked.
She let out a sigh. “This is what I mean. Already the past tense.”
Mitch swallowed a retort. He gritted his teeth, deciding to distract himself with another mouthful of whisky. He was furious. Disappointed. Regretful. But he also had no strength left to fight with her—or for her.
“I’m fine with being the villain in your story if this is who you need me to be,” Eve said. “But once you get over everything that happened today, you’ll see what I mean. I don’t think you ever let her go.”
That caught his attention. “Oh, come on. You’re just looking for excuses for what you did. What do you want from me? Some kind of absolution? I have none. I can’t even look at you right now.” He dropped his gaze to his shaking hands, trying to control his breathing.
Mitch knew all too well who Eve meant. His epic heartbreak. The woman who broke him.
Jackie.
He coughed. “I did let her go, before we even met.”
“Then why do you still hold on to the drawing of that ranch? And the letters?” Eve asked quietly. “I know you keep it all in the top drawer of your desk.”
His lungs cinched. “You went through my things?”
“I was looking for something one day.” She stood, pulling up the corset of her strapless dress. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m going to go and pack my stuff. I’ll leave my key under the doormat.”
Mitch nodded stiffly.
“Goodbye, Mitch. I did love you, you know.”
He let out a strange noise, something between a chuckle and a cough. How had a couple of hours pushed his entire world off its axis? And even worse, how was he supposed to comb through the debris and make peace with the wreckage?
He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. It was like the neurons in his brain misfired. Or maybe his heart and brain didn’t want to cooperate.