Chapter 6
Noelle
Felicity beamed at me, blocking the doorway so I couldn’t escape.
Not that I wanted to. I liked her. She seemed like the type who spoke her mind but also cared.
She reminded me of my sister even though they looked nothing alike.
Holly was shorter, blond, and delicate, while Felicity was tall and dark with expressive eyes. But they shared that same energy.
Holly had gotten me onto my first cruise ship, jumping into action when I’d been frozen in terror. What were you supposed to do as a runaway bride? There was no protocol for jilting the great Alford family. I was forever grateful to my sister, which reminded me that I needed to send her a message.
“Can you point me toward Cellular Hill?” I asked Felicity. “I really need to send some messages.”
“You think you can change the subject on me?” She gave me a reproachful smile.
My shoulders slumped. Ah, yes. My life story. There was no point trying to dodge it, or even to polish the ugly truth. Felicity seemed like someone who’d see straight through me.
“I ran away from my wedding and worked on cruise ships for a year. And now I’m back, but I can’t return to Bangor. I haven’t exactly tied up loose ends.” I swallowed hard.
She cocked her head. “You think if you stay away long enough, everyone will forget?”
Her words hit me hard, mostly because she was right. That’s exactly what I’d been secretly hoping—reaching some magical threshold of time, after which my sins would expire, and no one would even remember.
But of course they remembered. I’d humiliated the most powerful family in Bangor.
Updates from Holly and Mom had given me glimpses: how they’d eaten the wedding cake over two weeks (Holly swore she gained two pounds because of me) and that they’d sold the floral centerpieces (my family’s contribution) on eBay.
But just because my family had stopped talking about it didn’t mean the rest of the town had.
And they didn’t know where I was, which probably made the gossip even juicier.
“I don’t know if time will fix it,” I admitted. “And I don’t know how much time it would take. But I’m scared to go back. My ex-fiancé’s family is influential. If Spencer finds out I’m here…” I shuddered.
Felicity’s eyes widened. “Spencer? Spencer Alford? You’re the Missing Runaway Bride?”
Cold dread seized me. “Missing Runaway Bride?”
She whipped out her phone, pulled up an article, and shoved it at me.
Young Bride Cracks Under Pressure—Where is Spencer’s Fiancée?
My heart thumped as I scanned the article. It was an interview with Spencer, painting him as the long-suffering fiancé who still held a candle for me.
“I’m so worried about her, I can’t sleep. I want my girl home, no matter what,” a pull-quote declared.
Worried about me?
I read on, and there it was, hidden between the lines: I’d lost my mind.
He never said it outright, of course. It was dressed up as care and concern. He talked about stressors. Signs he’d missed. How he was disappointed in himself for failing to get me the “help I needed.”
I checked the date. The article had been published five days ago.
I shivered.
“Has everyone seen this?” My voice cracked.
Felicity frowned, probably trying to figure out what I meant by everyone. “It’s online. But maybe it’ll blow over.”
“Please don’t tell anyone.” My voice rose to a plea. “Please.”
“I won’t.” She scrolled through the article. “It only mentions your first name a couple of times. There are no photos of you.”
Instead, there were plenty of photos of him. Spencer in front of an antique fireplace. Spencer holding a framed photo of me, the camera focused on his hands instead of my face. Relief trickled in. As long as no one connected me to the story, I was safe.
“So… I get the feeling this is bullshit,” Felicity said, peering at me, her finger pointed at the article on the screen.
My stomach knotted. “It’s true I was engaged to him.
And that I ran off without saying where.
I couldn’t risk him finding me. But the rest…
” I shook my head. “I was a project for him and his family. They coached me to be like them, but I’m uncoachable.
I never lived up to their expectations. He always said it was fine and that I didn’t need to apologize. ”
Felicity blinked. “Apologize for what?”
“Just… all the wrong things I said. When I made someone uncomfortable or missed a social cue. I do that.”
It was better she knew. If I could wear a sign around my neck that said I will say the wrong thing, please forgive me, I would.
Felicity harrumphed. “They sound like a bag of pious dicks.”
Part of me wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t. “The Alfords are very influential. If they find out I’m here—”
“I get it.” She squeezed my arm and opened the door. “I won’t tell anyone. I have to get to work, but I’ll come see you later. Where’s your shop?”
“Right next door.” I dressed up and followed her outside, pointing at my little shop.
“Is that where the real estate office used to be? That space is huge.”
“They split it into three shops. Mine’s tiny.”
Her jaw dropped. “And no bathroom? That can’t be legal!”
“I wasn’t supposed to live there full-time,” I admitted. “But I don’t have anywhere else to go, so I figured I could make it work since they said there was a bed.”
She gave me a sympathetic smile. “Not like you had a lot of choice. The town’s booked solid for the holidays.”
“My cruise contract ended early, and I had to find something fast. A friend knew the owner…” I gestured helplessly in the direction of my cardboard-box palace. Then I remembered. “About Cellular Hill—”
“Walk towards the harbor and take a right. You’ll see it. There’s a little gazebo at the top.”
“Thank you!”
My muscles were sore, and my stomach growled as I tugged on my mittens. “Maybe I’ll see you later?”
Felicity grinned, her brown eyes sparkling. “You sure will.”
She was a lot friendlier than her brother. Easy to talk to, quick to smile. I could only pray she’d keep her promise and not tell anyone about my past. If word got out, Spencer would find me. Apparently, he was already looking.
I headed to the harbor. First, I’d send my messages, then buy coffee and breakfast. After that, I’d tackle the cardboard boxes.
The snow had stopped falling, and the early morning sky curved above me in shades of warm pink and blue, stars already fading. It was going to be a beautiful day, and I’d already made a friend. I wasn’t about to let anything bring me down.