Chapter 28
Penny
Cutting contact with Miles has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
I secretly loved getting his random texts with silly memes, and whenever he was in the mood to flirt, I loved how smooth he could be.
I rarely replied, and when I did, it was usually short and to the point—I’ve never been glued to my phone—but between his silliness, the overuse of emojis, and his flirting, his messages somehow always made my day.
And then there were the moments at the ice rink. Catching his smile from across the room and knowing it was just for me made me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.
The flowers he’d leave on my desk for no reason. My endless supply of perfectly made coffee.
Although, to be honest, what I miss the most—besides the amazing sex—is the way his place felt like home.
Back when I was driving between Azalea Creek and Charlotte every day, I’d come home exhausted, desperate for a hot shower and whatever leftovers I could throw in the microwave.
But once I started spending nights at Miles’s place, I’d walk through the door to a glass of wine and a freshly cooked meal waiting for me.
Afterward, we’d spend hours talking in front of the fire or soaking in the hot tub, staring at the stars until my fingers wrinkled like prunes.
I don’t know how he had the energy to come home and cook after spending all day doing physical labor.
But he did it. And not once did he complain.
Day by day, little by little, Miles became my favorite part of every day. Every single thing he did for me went beyond anything anyone has ever done before.
He somehow always made me feel like a Queen when I was with him. And to this day, I don’t know what I did for him. Did I ever make him feel as special as he made me feel? I hope I did, at least once.
Now I’m about to marry a despicable man who only cares about getting richer without lifting a finger.
It’s my wedding day, and my stomach has been in knots since the moment I woke up.
“Good morning, darling,” Helen greets me as she sweeps into the bridal suite with the makeup artist and hairstylist trailing behind her. They immediately start setting up their stations.
“Good morning,” I reply, trying to smile even though it probably looks more painful than convincing.
“Oh darling.” She coos as she sits beside me on the sofa. “Do you have the wedding jitters?”
I spent last night in my apartment, eating my weight in ice cream and watching reruns of Say Yes to the Dress.
Mami and I used to watch it together when I was growing up.
Back then, I always imagined we’d fly to New York for the day, find my dream dress with an unlimited budget, have a late lunch overlooking Central Park, then fly home tipsy with happiness.
Instead, I ended up with a dress I never even had a proper fitting for—a dress someone else chose for me.
I’m sure it’s beautiful for the right person.
That person just isn’t me.
The gown has a sweetheart neckline and a princess-cut silhouette.
Ivory satin covered in Swarovski crystals that catch the light every time I move.
The fabric is heavy, and the stones make it even heavier.
Layers and layers of tulle puff out beneath the skirt, making it hard to walk without feeling swallowed whole.
“It’s a big day,” I say brightly, forcing cheer into my voice. “Besides, I didn’t realize how many people Easton invited.”
“Oh, he did try to keep the wedding intimate,” Helen says lightly, “but it’s not every day I get to celebrate the union of two of my favorite people.”
She leans in to hug me, and guilt twists painfully in my chest.
So many people have been lied to.
I don’t think Easton realizes how crushed his mother would be if she knew I was marrying him against my will.
“I understand, because Mami is just as excited.” I smile faintly, remembering how happy she looked every time we crossed another task off the wedding checklist. “I just wish it had only been family.”
Helen frowns before smoothing the expression away. “Why would you want something so small? Is there something amiss? Something you’re trying to hide?”
My eyes widen as panic rushes through me.
“No, no. Of course not.” I force out a nervous laugh. “I’ve just never been big on celebrating with people I barely know.”
“Well, darling,” Helen says, smoothing a hand gently over my hair, “now that you’re becoming a Ryan, you’ll have to learn to do your part.”
A chill crawls down my spine, forcing my back straight.
The makeup artist and hairstylist pretend to be completely oblivious as they continue setting up their tools around us.
“You’re a good girl. Always polite. Always agreeable.” Helen smiles like she’s complimenting me. “And despite your… less-than-perfect background, you’ve been a good friend to Easton. That’s why we decided you’d make the perfect wife for him.”
Every muscle in my body locks, and for a second, I can’t even breathe.
Then Helen leans closer and places her phone in front of me.
I stare down at the screen, trying to focus through the ringing in my ears.
It’s the local newspaper’s website.
A giant photo of Easton and me stares back at me beneath the headline:
Two Prominent Charlotte Families Unite as Penny Levine Marries Easton Ryan in Society Wedding of the Year.”
“What?” The word barely makes it past my lips
“Oh, darling.” Helen pats my hand gently while the stylists nearby fuss over my dress, their fake excitement filling the room. “Did you honestly think Easton came up with this plan all by himself?”
Her smile sharpens.
“It’s a good thing I’m his mother. I’ll always look after what’s best for him.”
“What do you mean by less-than-perfect background?” I ask quietly, refusing to let that comment go.
Helens lets out a soft laugh like I’m being charmingly naive.
“My dear Penny, you’re a Levine, yes.” Her gaze drifts slowly over me. “But you also come from an immigrant mother who had absolutely nothing to her name until she married into money.”
It takes everything in me not to slap the condescension out of her.
I’m about to tell her exactly where she can shove her opinion when Mami walks into the room.
“Penny Bean, how are you on this beautiful day?” she asks warmly. “Did you rest? I’m so excited I get to spend one of the most important days of your life by your side.”
Before I can even move toward her, Helen leans closer and says in a low, chilling voice, “Remember, you’re marrying up so we could keep your poor father’s heart—and your family’s reputation—intact.”
Ice floods my veins.
I rush toward Mami and throw my arms around her.
“Aww, sweetheart.” She rubs soothing circles against my back. “I’m sure you’re feeling all kinds of emotions today.”
I nod against her shoulder, unable to force a single word past the lump in my throat.
I can’t believe how deep this web of lies and manipulation goes.
And I walked straight into it like a lamb to the slaughter.
“Hola, bebita. You look beautiful,” Dad says, tears already shining in his eyes as he meets me outside the ballroom.
This is the man I’ve looked up to my entire life.
The man who made sure Colombian traditions stayed part of our everyday lives, no matter how busy work got. The man who taught me the value of keeping my word. That family matters. That integrity matters.
So when did everything change?
“Thanks, Daddy,” I whisper, my voice breaking.
“Oh no, Penny.” Dad lets out a shaky laugh. “We’re both uncontrollable faucets.”
A watery laugh escapes me despite everything.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small embroidered handkerchief.
Father of the Bride.
That’s what finally breaks me.
“Oh, Ed.” Mami rushes toward us with a horrified gasp. “What did you do? Look at her makeup now.”
“I just couldn’t keep it together, carino,” Dad says softly, his eyes never leaving mine. “She looks like an angel.”
The love on his face is so pure, so overwhelming, it physically hurts to look at him.
I know people aren’t perfect. I know people make mistakes. But why did he have to gamble the fucking company?
Because when I look at him and Mami after all these years—still so deeply in love, still looking at each other like they hung the moon—there’s only one man I could ever imagine loving that way.
And he’s not the man waiting for me at the altar.
“Can we go to the powder room? I need a mirror.” I gather the heavy layers of my dress and hurry toward the restroom without looking back at Dad again.
“Penny, hija.” Mami follows close behind me. “Is everything okay? I know father is in his feelings, but…” She closes the bathroom door behind us and locks it softly. “I don’t know. I think there’s more to it.”
As soon as the lock clicks into place, my body gives out. I collapse onto the floor in a heap of tulle and lace.
“Penny!” Mami gasps, panic flashing across her face.
“I’m sorry.” A sob tears out of me. “I’m so sorry.”
The tears come so hard I can barely breathe through them.
I can’t do this. I can’t go through this sham of a marriage. I know Dad could lose the company. But I just can’t.
“You’re not making any sense, hija?” Mami kneels beside me, wrapping her arms around me despite the massive dress between us. “What are you talking about?”
I let myself fall apart against her.
“I’m not sure what’s going on, Penny,” she whispers, her own voice starting to shake, “but whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together. Just talk to me, sweetheart.”
The fear in her voice shatters whatever little resolve I still had left.
And suddenly, I know I can’t keep lying to her.
Whatever happens after I don’t walk down that aisle in ten minutes…
We’ll face it together.