Chapter 11
The grounds buzz with activity as I head toward the bridal suite, clutching a tiny safety pin. An urgent, last-minute request from Hattie.
Why her maid of honor couldn’t handle it, I didn’t ask. After last night, nothing surprises me. Besides, I didn’t mind the errand. It got me out of the room and away from the six-foot-something wall of temptation currently haunting my every waking thought.
Let’s just say morning Linc is even more dangerous than daytime Linc. Sleep-tousled hair, bare skin, that sexy rasp in his voice…add in how kind he was last night and the way he comforted me…
Yeah, not good. Not good at all.
Twenty-four more hours, Harlow. That’s it. Just twenty-four hours.
I’m halfway through the private gardens when a sound stops me cold. I strain to listen and hear it again. Faint, and muffled, coming from the janitorial shed against the side of the building.
Concerned, I head toward it. The closer I get, the clearer it becomes.
Not pain. It’s breathy…intimate.
Heat crawls up my neck, sinking into my cheeks.
Oh, for the love of Pete. Some people have no shame.
Disgusted, I turn to leave when a low male voice cuts through the moans, murmuring filth in a tone that sounds all too familiar.
I freeze, a sick feeling rolling through my stomach.
Ditching my heels, I inch closer, feet whispering over the gravel, breath locked somewhere in my chest.
Please don’t let it be him.
That silent prayer shatters the moment I peek around the corner.
Finch. Hands on the maid of honor’s hips, her dress shoved up, palms braced against the shed as he hammers into her from behind.
“Fuck me, Finch…yes, harder—fuck—”
That son of a bitch.
My fingers clamp around the safety pin, the metal biting deep into my palm as white-hot fury explodes in my chest.
Instinct tells me to storm over there and rip them both to shreds, but my body won’t budge. I’m rooted to my spot, stomach churning, and heart pounding as I witness the ultimate betrayal.
Hattie.
Spinning on my heel, I bolt for the bridal suite, heels forgotten, thoughts racing as fast as my steps.
I knew he was a bastard. But this? On her wedding day? With the maid of honor?
My jaw clenches, rage burning so hot it could ignite the damn gardens.
You’re finished, Finchy Boy.
Every step is fueled by sheer determination, but as the door to my sister’s suite comes into view, my pace slows, a moment of doubt creeping in.
I’m stuck somewhere between the need to protect her, and the fear of breaking her. Because this will break her. She’s softhearted, way more than I am.
Still, she has to know.
With that thought in mind, I lift my hand and knock—once, twice.
Footsteps shuffle behind the door before it swings open, revealing the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.
Hattie sparkles in layers of tulle and lace, her hair swept into an intricate updo that frames her glowing face. My mom stands just behind her, arranging the veil with careful precision.
“Ah, you’re a lifesaver! Thank you so much.” My sister pulls me into a hug, her excitement bubbling over like champagne, before ushering me inside and closing the door with a soft click.
“So…what do you think?” She spins slow and graceful, the enchantment I’d feared was missing now shining in her eyes.
It’s a knife straight to my chest.
Still, I manage a smile. “You look absolutely stunning, Hattie.”
Her face lights up at the praise, eyes softening.
“She’d better, for the price I paid for that dress,” my mother chimes in, her tone a mix of humor and pride as she steps up behind my sister, settling the veil on her head.
Hattie gives me a secret eye roll, but her smile holds, like we’re sharing a joke. The gesture is so small, so familiar, that it cuts me deeper than the veil’s pins ever could, because I’m about to ruin it all.
Tears sting my eyes, exposing the heaviness of my chest.
My sister notices, her brows knitting in concern. “Hey. What’s wrong? You okay?”
I nod, then falter, shaking my head. “Actually, no. I need to talk to you.”
Her concern deepens. “Okay. What is it?”
My gaze shifts to my mother, standing rigid with unease. “Can you give us a minute?”
Her eyes dart between us, a hint of worry there, before she finally nods. “All right. I’ll go find your father.” She delivers a cool, fleeting kiss to each of our cheeks, then slips out, leaving a silence heavier than the closed door.
Hattie turns to me, her hands nervously clutching the skirt of her dress. “What’s going on?”
The weight presses in, threatening to suffocate me, before I push it down. “Look, what I’m about to tell you is going to be really hard to hear. Just know I love you and I’m here for you. Okay?”
Her face drains of color, voice trembling. “You’re scaring me…”
That fear drives me forward. I hold her gaze, terrified as it is, and force out the truth.
“I just saw Finch with your maid of honor…they were—” The words lodge in my throat, before I manage to get them out. “They were having sex.”
Emotions flash across her face with dizzying speed, too many to name. “What are you talking about?”
I swallow hard, my voice hollow. “I saw them when I was walking back from the lobby with your safety pin.”
Her denial is instant, sharp. “No. You must be mistaken.”
“I’m not, Hattie,” I insist, my truth unshaken. “They were behind the janitorial shed. In broad daylight—”
“Stop it.” Her voice cracks, hands trembling as she stumbles back. “Please, just…stop.”
My gaze stays anchored on hers, studying and searching, and in that stillness, I see what’s been missing all along. Of all the emotions rushing through her, one never appears—surprise.
The realization slams into me like a boulder. “You already know, don’t you?”
Her eyes dart away, but not before I catch it, the truth buried in her silence.
“Jesus, Hattie,” I choke, anger rising through disbelief. “What the hell are you thinking?”
She turns away from me. “You wouldn’t understand.”
I grab her arm, spinning her back around. “You’re right, I don’t. Why would you marry him, knowing this?”
Her eyes blaze as she lashes out. “Because I deserve to be happy, Harlow. I deserve to get married and have a family.” Her voice wavers on that last word, something devastating beneath it.
“Yes, you do. With someone who loves you and deserves you.”
“Finch loves me.” She clings to those words, but the crack betrays her.
“That bastard doesn’t love anyone but himself,” I snap, refusing to hold back a second longer. “For Christ’s sake, Hattie, he’s screwing your maid of honor on your wedding day. Wake the fuck up!”
Her lips flatten into a thin line, her silence louder than any argument.
For a breath, all I can do is stare at her, wondering if I’m missing something, but the truth is right there.
“You’re really going to go through with this? You’re going to marry him after everything I just told you?”
Her eyes drop, voice barely a mutter. “Yes.”
The single word hits like a slap, and I realize I’m wasting my breath.
“Fine.” I lift my hands, accepting defeat. “Ruin your life. But don’t expect me to stand by and watch.”
The room blurs as I turn on my heel, leaving her behind.
“Wait!”
Her voice follows, thin and desperate, but I don’t look back. The marble hallway stretches, every step a fresh fracture inside my chest.
“That’s right, run away. It’s what you do best, isn’t it?”
The blow stops me cold, forcing me back around. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Her chin lifts, braced for battle. “Every time things get hard, you bail. Say what you want about Finch, but at least he’s been there for me, unlike you.”
The laugh that scrapes past my throat is rough and filled with exasperation. “Are you kidding me? Let’s not forget why I left in the first place, Hattie. You’re the one who betrayed me here, not the other way around.”
“That’s what this is really about, isn’t it?
” she sneers, accusation laced in every syllable.
“You don’t care about protecting me or my feelings.
You’re just mad Finch chose me over you.
Well, get over it. I’m tired of carrying all the blame for this.
I liked him first, and you went out with him anyway. ”
“Because I didn’t know,” I wail, sick of repeating myself.
“If I had, I never would’ve touched him.
But that’s the difference between us, Hattie.
I’m loyal. I have dignity. You?” My gaze flicks over her, heavy with disgust. “You’re so desperate for attention you’ll spread your legs for anyone who glances your way, no matter who it hurts. That’s not love…that’s pathetic.”
Her face flames, eyes dilating with fury. “You bitch.”
The word detonates, setting off the fire that’s been simmering for years. A lifetime of resentment erupts all at once, spilling into the space as we hurl insults, shoves, and accusations, each one meant to cut deep.
It’s absolute chaos…until my parents appear out of nowhere.
“What the hell is going on here?” My mother wedges herself between us, arms thrown out like a shield. “Are you two out of your minds?”
Hattie and I glare at each other over her shoulder, chests heaving, clawing for air.
“Harlow? Hattie?” my father presses, his gaze shifting between us. “What’s this about?”
I stare at my sister, arching a brow. “You want to tell them, or should I?”
She stays quiet, eyes sliding from mine in rigid defiance.
The moment shatters when the sharp rhythm of footsteps echo in the near distance.
Finch barrels into view, his tie askew, and shirt rumpled, the maid of honor trailing right behind him.
“What’s with all the goddamn yelling?” he barks, irritation etched across his face as if he’s the one inconvenienced.
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” my mother says, turning her attention back to Hattie and me. “One of you better explain, right now.”
The fight has drained from my sister now, her eyes hollow with pain as she stares at Finch and the woman beside him.
It’s that devastation that hardens my resolve, and why I won’t let this go. I can’t.