Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
T he following morning, Quinley pulled the long braid of her hair over her shoulder and stared at the image of herself in the phone. She’d done the best she could with her makeup and hair, and while she’d hidden the worst of the circles and shadows beneath her eyes, she could still see them thanks to the brutality of the camera.
She looked…haggard. As a regretful runaway bride should look, she supposed, which was why she didn’t add a filter. She didn’t want anyone to think for a moment the decision she’d made was an easy one.
It wasn’t. And despite the makeup she’d applied, her face proved it. So she’d let them see, let them say whatever they’d say, and hope for the best.
Last night, she’d signed off on the home rental in Carolina Cove and made the deposit payment. She had to admit it felt good to know she had a place to go when she forced herself to return. She wasn’t homeless. And that was a start.
She and Elias had spent most of the evening working the puzzle, choosing silence and a streamed movie neither of them watched since both were lost to their own thoughts.
She’d gone to bed fairly early, using her phone to search for possible vacation rentals nearby. Getting a hotel room was out of the question. No way could she be in a room with the guards outside and people not know something was amiss. As to cabins, there were two in the immediate area, but she’d hesitated in booking them due to the expense.
How could she have forgotten it was the week before Easter? Prices had increased, tripled basically, and while Rhys had offered to cover the expense, what did that mean when it came to them ?
Until she talked to Rhys face-to-face, talked to her parents and knew where she stood financially with all of them, she wasn’t entirely sure she could afford the two bags of junk food and gas money she owed Elias. Not if she had to cover the wedding that wasn’t.
At the thought of Elias, her body tightened.
His revelations about foods and allergies and his family’s loss had unveiled a side to him she hadn’t expected, considering she saw what everyone else saw when they looked at him.
Tall, dark and gorgeous, ripped , he made for a pretty picture. Maybe that’s why hearing him talk about his sickliness in childhood had thrown her.
Most people chose to eat a certain way due to fads or diets, but for him it was more. It was health and life and… quality of life. Something no one probably thought about now when looking at him and judging him based on his appearance.
She couldn’t imagine being that young boy—that young sick boy—trying to figure it all out on his own, scared to be ill because of what it could do to him and his family. Not wanting to be the weak link that tore them all apart. Not wanting to be taken away.
How terrifying was that?
Her heart hurt for him, for all Elias had been through and the pride she felt that he’d conquered his fear and used it to fuel his passion for good days. Turning all of it into his livelihood, seeing as how he now owned businesses focused on living healthy.
She sighed and forced herself back to the present, to focus on her current predicament, because she couldn’t put it off any longer.
Rhys’s team had sent her a statement to release that sounded cold and…technical. She’d hated every word of it. So she’d done what she did best and rewrote it to be more personal and revealing, though she also hated being so publicly vulnerable.
But if she wanted to have a life and career in the future, vulnerability was key. At least in her opinion. She had to show the haters her soft side and pray it did the trick to change the tide of those thinking the worst of her.
She deserved some of the ridicule; she accepted that because she had hurt a lot of people, but life moved on, and she needed to be able to eventually move on with it. To be able to work her job—if she still had one—and provide for herself and the future. And to do that, she had to do this .
She’d already propped up her phone in her bedroom at the cabin, in the sitting area in the corner near the bathroom. She leaned forward and after another deep breath, hit Record before settling on the edge of the seat and staring into the camera. She looked scared.
She was scared. This could backfire, and if it did… She’d find out if rock bottom had a basement.
“Hi, for those of you who haven’t seen the news of late, I’m Quinley Anders, and I was engaged to Rhys Lachlan until a few days ago. To put it simply, I got cold feet and became a runaway bride. I’m sure most of you have seen the images and video,” she murmured with a wry expression and small grimace. “I’ll be the first to admit those were not my best moments, and there are a lot of rumors going around as a result. I’d like to put those rumors to rest. First, I left on my own accord, and I was not coerced, blackmailed, or forced to leave in any way. There was no one in the bridal suite threatening me and forcing me onto that balcony. It was a very poor choice that endangered my life and could have ended horribly. It was a decision I made in my panic, and I do not recommend or encourage any one to do what I did. It was stupid of me and very irresponsible.
“Secondly, I want to stress that at no point in our relationship did Rhys ever lift a hand toward me in violence. He is truly a wonderful man, and my decision, while horribly executed in too many ways to list here, was based entirely on realizing I wasn’t ready to get married.
“I handled a delicate situation badly, and in doing so, I cast suspicion on Rhys and myself in ways I did not intend. So with this video, I’d like to put those questions to rest once and for all as there have been…death threats made as a result of my actions.
“I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t devastating to know people want me dead because I made a choice about my life that they did not agree with. I admit, I’ve embarrassed Rhys and his family, my family and friends, and myself. I owe a lot of people apologies, but I stand by my decision not go through with a wedding that would have been wrong for me.
“As Rhys and I navigate this change to our relationship and lives, I ask for privacy and your empathy. I am sorry for hurting those I love and for disappointing those of you so invested in our relationship and what would have been our future together, but I hope you’ll find compassion in your hearts for us as we figure out our next steps. Thank you for listening.”
It took her six tries to record the prewritten message before she felt it was good enough, tweaking words here and there with every take. Swearing when she’d get it right only to realize she hadn’t pressed the Record button. By the time she’d finished the sixth version, she was emotionally exhausted and teary-eyed yet again.
She watched the message several times, trying to see it objectively from a professional media standpoint and then as one of Rhys’s many fans as one of the country’s most eligible bachelors.
When she felt she couldn’t make it any better or more relatable, she sent the video to Rhys, knowing his people would take care of the rest.
It took moments. Mere minutes. She sat there slumped in the chair inside the quiet cabin bedroom when her freshly charged regular phone began buzzing nonstop as messages and calls rolled in one after another after another.
Ana, her father, her mother, news stations the world over, people in her contacts and unknown numbers from every area code and country.
Her eyes burned with frustrated tears, and anger left her shaking. So much for privacy. Though if she was honest, she’d expected little.
Her voice mailbox was full from the day of the wedding, and finally she could handle no more. She pressed the button to turn off the phone, tossing it aside in annoyance and wishing she could take a hammer to it and crush it.
Instead, she picked up the burner phone Elias had purchased for her and used it, typing out a message to Rhys.
I AM sorry. Please forgive me.
He didn’t respond for several minutes, and she could picture him in his office, at his desk, long legs stretched out in front of him, handsome face scowling.
Why are you still with him?
She sagged deeper in the seat. Axel had obviously reported in and relayed that she’d turned down the offers to drive her elsewhere.
Why had she stayed? It was late by the time her bags had arrived. That was true. But accommodations could’ve been made regardless of the time or the weather or her money situation. Rhys’s money and power made that possible, but she hated the thought of being indebted to him anymore than she already was.
He’s just a friend. I promise.
She’d always had a tendency to isolate when things went bad. After fights, breakups, job issues, she’d enter her apartment on a Friday after work and not emerge until it was time to go back on Monday. Ana called her a hermit when it happened.
Was that what she was doing? But it wasn’t isolation when there was another person with her, and if she was going to stay cooped up with someone, shouldn’t that someone be Ana?
You didn’t address him in the video. What about that rumor?
She inhaled and groaned softly.
There is NOTHING to address. Don’t blame Elias for what happened. I jumped into the limo because I saw him leaving. That’s why. That’s ALL. Blame me. Hate me. Just…forgive me. Please.
What else was there to say? She’d denied the truth for months whenever Ana asked her about the moods Quinley hadn’t been able to hide, but now that she knew them for what they really were? For that insidious growing awareness that she was locked into an engagement everyone wanted except for her?
She had no doubts now. No questions or lingering feelings other than deep regret due to not handling things better. Of not ending things months ago when she’d shoved down the uneasy niggles of malcontent and put a smile on her face because she should have been happy. Everyone told her so. How happy she must be to be living a fairy tale.
So she’d told herself she was happy because Rhys had given her everything a woman could want or need or desire except??—
She’d done the right thing. She knew it.
But where she went from here?
That she didn’t know.
Except—she did. At least partially.
She picked up the phone again.
I found a place to rent. Could you please arrange for my things to be brought there once I’m back in town?
Maybe that was a bold ask, but for Rhys, it meant a passing comment to his PA and the matter handled. If she had to guess, her bags had already been packed and were waiting for her. And if they weren’t, it wasn’t like Rhys would actually gather up her belongings himself. Not that she had much.
When she’d moved in with him, she’d sold all of her furniture and downsized to a large number of suitcases for her massive walk-in closet, boxes of favorite books, and a few personal items.
His housekeeper could pack the lot of it within an hour or so at most. And while she could go to the hotel penthouse and do it herself, she felt awkward at the thought of being in Rhys’s private space now that she’d blown their lives apart. This would not only be easier; it would be better.
Send the address and the date you want it delivered.
And…apparently Rhys felt the same way.
She quickly copied and pasted the address of the rental she’d signed off on with Dawson and Sophia Blackwell and started to set the phone aside once again before grimacing and firing off one more text.
I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for the wedding, but…I’ll do what I can. Just give me time.
I’ll handle the wedding expenses as planned.
Relief flooded to the point she felt a little nauseous and lightheaded. Billionaire weddings were expensive, and theirs had been top of the line everything thanks to the mothers.
Thank you. I’m sorry. Again.
This time she did set the phone aside and rose shakily to her feet. She needed a break. A walk. Something to wash away the upset she felt at herself for shoving down her doubts and waiting until the last minute to end things with Rhys.
Time to focus on something else.
Time to find a different place to stay.