CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
RILEY
––––––––
I slam the door closed behind me, locking myself in the main bathroom. I feel like throwing up again, and not because of the usual nausea.
I’ve signed a contract with The Final Rose. I’m going to be the next bachelor
Oh, my fucking god.
Colt is going on network TV, shown all around the world, while he publicly dates women?
After this.
After being with me this week, and over the past several weeks?
After everything he said this morning.
After fucking me like it meant something more. His words. His demands that I feel what he is.
You belong with me.
I’ve never felt like this, and it’s confusing the hell out of me.
How could he do this?
That’s not something he would have done while I was out shopping. It’s obviously been in the pipeline for a while. A long while. Even before we met.
Either way, he knew.
Just as he knew about Sebastian and Emily’s wedding. Despite seducing me into believing our sex life was meaningful, on the side he’s been planning his life.
Worse, he’s been planning to find a bride.
On fucking TV in front of the world.
Christ.
The shame, hurt, and humiliation rocket through me, and I crumble to my knees.
How could he do this?
I have no idea who the man was downstairs with him is, but the brief glimpse I got tells me he’s unimpressed with Colt, too.
Not that it matters.
Nothing matters.
I’m a fool for falling in love with that fucking asshole.
I stare at my bags and see the long, narrow box which has fallen out of the CVS Pharmacy bag.
God, I hope I’m wrong.
Reaching out to grab it, I rip it open, then sit on the toilet to pee on the stick.
Now I wait.