Chapter 8
Slade stood in their shared room, straightening his tie in the mirror. Mia sat on the edge of the bed in her emerald green maid of honor dress, hair and makeup already done from the earlier session with the bridesmaids. She looked stunning. And miserable.
She was staring at notecards in her hands, her expression blank.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Fine. Just going over my speech one more time.”
Something in her voice was off. Too controlled. Too careful.
“Let me hear it,” he said.
She looked up, surprised. “What?”
“Your speech. Let me hear it.”
“It’s fine. Just the standard maid of honor stuff.”
“Humor me.” He sat beside her on the bed, his thigh pressing against hers.
She sighed, picked up the cards, and started reading. “Tessa and I have been friends since childhood. I’ve watched her dream of this day. Now seeing her marry Derek, I’m so happy for them. True love is worth celebrating. May they have a lifetime of happiness.”
The words were perfect. Gracious. Appropriate. Completely hollow.
“Is that what you really want to say?” Slade asked quietly.
She lowered the cards. “It’s what I’m supposed to say.”
He turned to face her fully. “I didn’t ask what you’re supposed to say. I asked what you want to say.”
“Does it matter?” Her voice was brittle. “I’m the maid of honor. I give the nice speech. I smile. I do my job.”
“Mia.” He took the notecards from her hands, setting them aside. “What would you say if you were honest?”
Her hands clenched in her lap. “That I’m angry. That they hurt me. That everyone expected me to just accept it and smile.”
“Keep going.”
“That I gave Derek three years.” Her voice broke. “Three years of my life. And he threw it away for her in six months. That my best friend since childhood didn’t even stop to think about how this would hurt me.”
“More,” he encouraged, his hand finding hers.
“That everyone—everyone—told me to be the bigger person. To be gracious. To support their love.” Tears spilled over, ruining her carefully applied makeup. “What about me? What about my hurt? Why didn’t anyone care about that?”
“Because they’re selfish.” Slade pulled her into his arms, not caring about her dress or his suit. “Because it was easier for them if you just smiled and pretended it didn’t destroy you.”
She sobbed against his chest, finally letting it out. All the anger, all the hurt, all the betrayal she’d been swallowing for six months.
“You deserved better,” he said fiercely, his hand stroking her back. “You deserved someone who chose you first. Who protected you. Who wouldn’t dream of hurting you.”
“I thought I was over it,” she hiccupped. “I thought I’d moved on.”
“You put on a good show.” His arms tightened. “But you needed to break first. To be angry first.”
She pulled back, looking up at him with tear-stained eyes and streaked mascara. “I’m ruining my makeup.”
“I don’t care.” He wiped her tears with his thumbs. “I care that you’re finally being honest.”
“With you or with myself?”
“Both.”
She let out a watery laugh. “This is a terrible time for a breakdown. The wedding’s in thirty minutes.”
“Actually, it’s the perfect time.” He kissed her forehead. “Because now you can go down there and give that nice speech, knowing you got the real feelings out. With me. In private. Where it’s safe.”
She touched his face, her eyes soft despite the tears. “How are you so good at this?”
“At what?”
“At seeing me. At knowing what I need.”
“Because I’ve been watching you for two years.” His voice was rough. “I know you, Mia. Maybe better than you know yourself.”
She kissed him then. Not desperate or heated, but tender. Grateful. Trusting.
When she pulled back, she took a shaky breath. “Okay. I can do this.”
“I know you can.” He stood, pulling her up with him. “But I’ll be right there. If you need to leave, we leave. Say the word.”
“Okay.” She looked in the mirror, assessing the damage to her makeup. “I need to fix my face.”
He handed her a tissue. “You’re beautiful.”
“I’m a mess.”
“You’re my mess.” The possessiveness in his voice made her shiver. “And after tonight, after we get through this wedding, you’re coming home with me.”
“Your cabin,” she whispered.
“My cabin. My bed. My life.” His eyes met hers in the mirror. “You ready for that?”
“Yes.” No hesitation.
“Good.” He moved behind her, his hands on her shoulders while she dabbed at her mascara. “Because I’m done waiting. I’ve waited two years. After tonight, I’m claiming what’s mine.”
Her reflection showed wide eyes, flushed cheeks, rapid breathing. “Slade—”
A knock on the door interrupted. “Mia? It’s time!” Chelsea’s voice called.
Slade leaned down, his lips by her ear. “Later.”
She watched him step back in the mirror, watched him put his public face back on. But she’d seen behind it. Seen the intensity, the possessiveness, the care.
And she wanted all of it.
As she grabbed her bouquet and headed to the door, his voice stopped her. “Mia?”
She turned.
“You’re the strongest woman I know. You’re going to be amazing down there.”
She smiled, real and genuine. “Thank you.”
“Just being honest.” His eyes were dark with promise. “Now go be the maid of honor. I’ll be watching.”
And as she walked out, she knew he would be. Her anchor. Her protector. Her future.
She just had to get through this wedding first.