55. Vivienne
Vivienne
The sound of tires crunching over gravel greets me as I exit the stables after returning Blaze to his stall. A steady stream of vehicles are pulling onto the grounds, each one stopping in front of the house to unload guests dressed in suits and gowns.
Heart clenching into a tight ball, I freeze in the middle of the path. Maybe I can’t do this after all. I watch a blue sedan come to a stop and a young brunette hop out of the back seat. My feet begin moving the second I recognize her.
“Briar,” I call.
Turning, she looks at me in surprise. “Vivienne!” She pulls me into her lilac-scented embrace. “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you.”
“It’s good to see you,” I say. “I wasn’t sure you’d come after . . . everything.”
“It’s your wedding. Of course I came.” Leaning back, she keeps her hands clasped on my arms. Her gaze travels over my rumpled dress and windblown hair. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”
“I’m calling it off,” I say breathlessly.
She blinks rapidly. “I’m sorry, you’re what?”
“I can’t marry him.”
Pausing, she takes this in, then she nods. “Okay. Tell me what you need me to do.”
“You’re not going to tell me I’m crazy?” A choked laugh trips out of me.
“If I said you were crazy, it’d be for something other than calling off your own wedding.” She loops an arm around my neck as we head for the back door. The flow of people entering through the front has only increased since we’ve been talking.
“Like what?”
“We can talk about that later,” she says.
When we get inside, anxiety creeps in, winding its way around my heart and squeezing tightly, like ivy choking out a flower.
Once again, I freeze, my hand grasping for Briar’s.
She turns with a concerned expression. We’re standing in the boot room, but the catering staff is giving us weird looks through the kitchen doorway.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” I whisper.
“Hey, look at me.” She places both hands on my shoulders, directing my eyes to hers. “Do you love him?”
“Who?”
“Landon?” she says, raising a quizzical eyebrow.
“No.” I shake my head. “The whole thing was arranged by my parents.”
Her lips part in astonishment. “People still do that?”
“Why is that what everyone fixates on?” I mutter.
“Okay, listen. We’re going to find your mum and tell her you don’t want to go through with this. She might resist at first, but I’ll have your back the whole time.”
“You haven’t met my mother.”
Briar locks arms with me and leads me from the room. “I’m sure she’s perfectly lovely.”
“That’s one way to describe her.”
I’m going to be sick. Bile crawls up my throat, and my stomach threatens to expel my breakfast all over my mud-splattered wedding gown.
The last of the bridesmaids leave the room, with the exception of my sister.
Marlowe and Sutton both throw me sympathetic looks over their shoulders as they walk out.
I want to beg them to come back, to not leave me with my mother, but I can’t subject either of them to that.
It’s bad enough that Briar will have to see this.
“What is going on?” Mum snaps. “The processional starts in fifteen minutes, and you look as if you’ve just walked out of a swamp.”
“There isn’t going to be a wedding.” I keep my voice as strong as possible, but a tiny waver slips through. Beside me, Briar squeezes my hand.
My mother laughs. “Is that all? I thought there was some catastrophe with the cake or that the forecast had changed.”
“You’re not hearing me,” I say, stepping closer to her. “I’m not marrying Landon.”
“Honey, listen to me.” She grabs my shoulders, her rings cool against my bare skin. “Every bride gets cold feet. What you’re feeling is perfectly normal.”
I shake my head. “I don’t have cold feet. I’ve finally come to my senses.”
Botox won’t allow frown lines to appear on her face, but I can read the displeasure there anyway. Dropping her hands, she turns to my sister. “Maeve, do something.”
Maeve gives me a hard stare as she approaches. “What’s going on, Viv?”
“I don’t love him,” I say. “And I don’t want to marry him.”
“That’s ridiculous,” my mother says. “You don’t need to love him. The Davenport family is a great connection. You won’t be happier with anyone else, trust me.”
I keep my eyes locked on Maeve. “I can’t spend the rest of my life with someone I don’t love. You of all people should understand that.”
Mum’s gaze whips from me to her eldest daughter. “What is she talking about?”
“Nothing.” Maeve doesn’t spare her a glance. Her face is as no-nonsense as ever, but there’s a softness in her eyes. “If you really want to call this thing off, you have my support. You deserve to be happy, Viv.”
“We’re not calling anything off.” My mother grabs my arm, and her nails dig into my flesh. “You’re going to change dresses and walk down that goddamn aisle with a smile on your face.”
“No offense, Lady Wilson, but you can’t force Vivienne to do something she doesn’t want to,” Briar says, moving to stand beside me again.
Mum looks at her as if seeing her for the first time. “Who are you?”
“I’m Viv’s friend, and I’m not going to let you bully her into marrying a guy just because you think he looks good on paper.”
She tries to stutter out a reply, but Maeve beats her to the punch. “She’s right, Mum. If Viv doesn’t want to marry Landon, you’re not going to force her to.” She turns to Briar. “Your brother is going to kill you when he finds out where you are.”
Briar shrugs. “Let him.”
“This is absurd. I’m getting your father.” Mum marches to the door and flings it open.
“I don’t want to see him.” I look at Maeve, my eyes wide with desperation. “He’s going to be livid.”
I can tell we’re both thinking the same thing: I’ll take her over him any day.
“I’ll do what I can to stop him, but you really need to talk to Landon,” Maeve says.
“I don’t know where he is.” My heart picks up speed, and my palms grow clammy. This whole thing seemed so right when I was with Mateo. Now that I have to deal with the consequences, I’m starting to wonder if it was all a terrible idea.
“You stay here. I’ll find him,” Briar says, squeezing both my hands. “And don’t listen to that voice in your head. You’re doing the right thing.”
Five minutes later, someone knocks on the bedroom door. I open it slowly, terrified my father will be on the other side, but knocking isn’t really his thing. He prefers to just barge inside.
Landon is waiting in the hall in his crisp black tuxedo, his hair freshly cut and perfectly styled as always. He looks confused when he sees me, giving my tousled state a once-over. I pull him inside, not wanting to have this conversation where we might be overheard.
“I thought it’s bad luck to see each other before the ceremony?” he says.
“There isn’t going to be a ceremony,” I tell him, reaching for courage I don’t feel. “I want to call off the wedding.”
His face remains placid. “Is this some kind of joke?”
“Of course not.” I knot my fingers together. “I wouldn’t joke about this.”
“Then what’s going on, Vivienne? Because our guests are waiting for us, and you look like you’ve just stepped out of a horror movie.”
“I can’t marry you, Landon.”
A small frown line appears between his brows. “Why not?”
I chew on the inside of my lip, wishing I had done this weeks ago instead of waiting until now, which might be the worst time in the world to break up with someone. “Because I don’t love you.”
“Is this about Lina?”
“Who?” I ask, just as the tabloid pictures of him with that woman flash through my mind. I shake my head. “No, it’s about me. I should’ve done this much sooner, but I was scared and I didn’t want to hurt you.”
Nostrils flaring slightly, Landon clenches his jaw as he works to maintain his always-perfect composure. “Then it’s about him.”
I don’t need to ask who he’s talking about this time, but it’s on the tip of my tongue to do so anyway, partly to buy time and partly because I’m dying to hear his name.
“Cassian.” He says it with a snarl, and I can see what jealousy looks like on my ex-fiancé for the first time. Needless to say, it’s not attractive.
Twisting my hands, I search for the right words. “It’s more about me doing what I want instead of what everyone else wants.”
“Let me guess,” Landon says, stepping closer and lowering his voice. “What you want is to do him.”
I open my mouth to reply, but before I can, the door flies open. My heart leaps into my throat, but it’s only Bash, not my father.
“Okay, Davenport. She’s told you enough. Time to go.” He holds the door, waiting for Landon to walk through it.
Landon turns back to me. “Is there anything I can say to change your mind?”
I gape at him. “You still want to marry me after all that?”
He shrugs as if I’ve just asked if he still enjoys watching rugby. “Yeah, why not?”
I shake my head, but Bash grabs Landon’s arm and pushes him into the hallway. “You heard the woman. Now go tell everyone there isn’t going to be a party.”
After the door closes, I sag against the bed. “Thank you.”
“What the fuck’s going on, Viv?” Bash says. “Maeve said you’re canceling the wedding. A badass move, I’ll admit, but I thought this was what you wanted.”
His bowtie is crooked, and I stare at it because it feels easier than meeting his eyes. “I thought it was. But Cassian helped me see that I was only doing it to keep Mum and Dad happy.”
“Cassian.” He mutters it like a curse, his hands on his hips. Maybe it’s a good thing Cass left. I don’t like the look of Bash’s clenched fists. “I should’ve guessed he was behind this whole thing.”
“He wasn’t,” I say. “Not really. He left a while ago.”
“I wondered where the fucker had gotten off to.” Bash shakes his head and walks to the window. “He didn’t get his way, so he left like a coward.”
“Don’t be cruel, Bash.”
“Why shouldn’t I?” He whirls around to face me. “My best friend used me to get close to my sister.”
I rear back in surprise. “Why would you think that?”
“Why wouldn’t I think that? All these years, he pretended we were best friends, and then I find out he’s been in love with you the whole time. It doesn’t take a genius to put the pieces together.”
“Cassian loves you,” I say, getting to my feet. “He’d be best friends with you even if I wasn’t in the picture. You were his friend long before he had feelings for me.”
“You don’t know that,” my brother mutters.
“Is this because you think he was using you or because you’re afraid of losing both of us?” I say, edging closer to him.
He props both hands on the windowsill and stares at the front lawn, where some of the guests are milling around, glasses of champagne in their hands, while others are hopping into their cars and leaving. Landon must have made the announcement.
“Maybe a little of both.”
“You’re not going to lose us.” I place a hand between his shoulder blades. He feels warm even through his tuxedo. “In fact, you’ll probably grow sick of us.”
“I’m already sick of you,” he says, hooking his elbow around my neck and pulling me into his side. “What kind of idiot saddles himself with a twin sister?”
“The same idiot who chooses to be born into a fucked-up family.”
Bash grinds his knuckles into the top of my head. I try to squirm away, but he doesn’t loosen his hold on me. “I should’ve strangled you with the umbilical cord. That way you couldn’t steal my best friend from me.”
“You have all the time in the world to regret your choices later,” I say, breaking free. “But do you think you can withhold your judgment for a little longer? I still have to talk to Dad, and we both know he’s going to dish out enough for both of you.”
“Want me to tell him?” Bash looks down at me, concern in his eyes.
“I need to learn to stand up to him.” Straightening my shoulders, I picture a rod of steel replacing my spine. “But you can come with me if you want.”
He drops a kiss to my head and steers us toward the door. “My baby sister putting our father in his place? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“I’m older than you by six minutes, jerk.”
“Maybe, but I’m taller, smarter, and much more attractive, so it evens out.”
I shove my elbow into his side, but a smile tugs at my lips. Maybe I’ll survive this after all.