Chapter 1 #2
The poor girl looks like she’s having an existential crisis, and I can’t blame her.
Before this moment, I never would have believed, not in a million years, that Brandon would be capable of owning a secret phone—one he tucked away in the toiletry bag he’s taking on our honeymoon.
And yet, over the past several minutes, as my brain has furiously connected dots that were there all along, I’m suddenly feeling extremely suspicious my soon-to-be-husband might be capable of doing a lot of things I never would have believed.
Is Brandon even hosting a poker night tonight, like he told me?
Surely, my father and brother would have told me if not.
Right? My head is spinning with possibilities—all of them terrible.
“Delilah, please think about this rationally,” Kaylee interjects, an indignant hand on her hip. “What’s the harm in Iris getting into that phone, if it’s only going to prove your brother’s innocence?”
“It’s about trust,” Delilah insists.
“Trust?” Tatiana booms, making me flinch. Normally, Tatiana is the more soft-spoken of my two college besties, but that particular retort was delivered in an ear-piercing shout. “Sorry, Delilah, but trust flew out the window when Brandon hid that phone from Iris in a pocket of his toiletry bag!”
“We don’t know that he hid it,” Delilah screams back. “He put it there—if that’s his phone at all.”
Trembling, I raise my palms to the group. “Everyone, calm down. Please. This isn’t productive.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a deep breath, trying to wrangle my racing thoughts and hammering heart. “Maybe Delilah is right. Maybe I should bring the phone to the hotel and ask Brandon—”
“So he can deny it’s his?” Harper yells. “No, Iris.”
Kaylee adds, “Or delete everything on it before handing it over to you?”
“Exactly,” Tatiana agrees. “Don’t you dare do that, Iris.”
Delilah visibly bristles. “Wow, you all don’t like my big brother very much, do you?”
“It’s nothing personal,” Kaylee insists.
“If Brandon wasn’t your brother and this exact scenario happened to your best friend in the world, would you do everything in your power to help her get into the phone, or would you tell her to call the man she’s supposed to marry tomorrow to ask him about it? ”
Delilah bites the inside of her cheek. Based on her body language, it seems she’s seriously considering Kaylee’s argument.
I gently lay a hand on Delilah’s arm and flash her my most you-can-trust-me facial expression.
If I’m right and Delilah’s confidence has been shaken by Kaylee’s words, I want to land a knockout punch.
“Please, Delilah,” I say, holding Delilah’s anxious gaze.
“This feels like a life-or-death situation to me. Like everything I believe about Brandon hangs in the balance.”
I wouldn’t normally put Delilah on the spot this way or lay it on quite so thick.
She’s a sensitive soul who’s deeply loyal to her brother and their entire family.
But given the situation, I have to look out for myself above all others, including Delilah.
Mere hours from now, I’m scheduled to marry Brandon, the likely owner of this phone.
And not at city hall, with a couple of witnesses, but at the small, quaint church I grew up attending in Orchard Blossom, in front of every living person who’s ever loved me.
And I can’t do that if it turns out my groom has been lying to me about more than the existence of a secret phone.
After what feels like an interminable amount of time, Harper breaks the thick silence by speaking in a pleading tone to Delilah. “If you have full faith in your brother, then you should want Iris to get into that phone to prove your point.”
Delilah swallows hard and glares at me. “If I help you get into that phone and we find out there’s nothing bad on it, promise you’ll tell Brandon what you did before the wedding tomorrow.”
“I will.”
“He needs to know he’s marrying someone who doesn’t trust him.”
I nod furiously. “If I’m wrong, I’ll drive to the hotel tonight, throw myself at Brandon’s feet, and beg him for forgiveness.”
Delilah’s shoulders droop. “What guesses have you tried already?”
Thank God. With my pulse pounding, I recount the passcode attempts I’ve made thus far, and Delilah offers two more suggestions—the second of which opens the phone like Aladdin opening the Cave of Wonders.
“It worked!” I shriek excitedly. “You’re a genius, Delilah. My guardian angel.”
They’re the last joyful words to leave my lips for the rest of the night—and quite possibly, for the rest of my life.
Once I start scrolling through the contents of Brandon’s secret phone—his texts, photos, messaging apps, porn apps, and every kind of dating app—nothing but the sounds of wails, retching, and heartbreak escape me, until finally, as the sun rises on my long-awaited wedding day, I pass out on the cool tile floor of my bathroom, feeling like my heart has been ripped open and scraped over endless shards of broken glass.