26. Rosay
Chapter twenty-six
Rosay
M y arms hang loosely at my sides as I stand in the bridal suite watching Waverly curl her blonde hair.
In a daze after seeing Connor and Graham talking in the kitchen, I barely managed to make it to the venue without stumbling over my feet a minimum of five times.
Connor’s blonde hair, round face, and typical golf attire brought me back to the week before the facade that was my life crumbled.
And Graham.
I couldn’t tell what they were talking about prior to my arrival, but there weren’t any fists being thrown, so I can only hope that the conversation was civil.
Does he know that Connor is my ex or what happened between us?
Did Connor tell him that he too would get sick of me eventually? My stomach riots at the thought.
“Knock knock,” a male voice that sounds vaguely like my dad calls from outside of the room. “Can we come in?”
“We?” all the women ask.
“It’s just me,” Graham says, cracking open the door. “Can I talk to Rosay?”
“You can both come in.” Winnie comes out of the bathroom in a cloud of hairspray. “I have something I wanted to talk to you about anyway.”
“Both of them?” I ask as Graham and my dad come inside.
“No, silly. You and Grah am.”
My gaze floats to Graham, and I’m sure my face is a mirror of confusion. “Us?”
The room is cramped with Wendy and Waverly in the corner working on their hair, and now with Graham and my dad inside, there’s barely any room to even breathe.
“I wanted to run something past you two,” she says, twisting her fingers together in front of her, and for some odd reason she looks to my dad and Wendy before looking back at me and Graham.
“Okay.” Something like heartburn rises in my chest. Graham wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me tight to him and lending me some support. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong.” Winnie’s mouth curves up into a wide smile. “I talked with Jordan last night, and we thought—if you’re up for it, since everyone’s already here—it could be fun to have a double wedding.”
“A what?” I guffaw.
“Yeah, well I already talked with Dad and Wendy, and the caterer yesterday, and I even called Stella and Christine.” Her cheeks pinken, but she maintains eye contact. “They all said it was doable if you wanted to get married today.”
Was there an earthquake? Because I’m sure the ground just shifted beneath my feet. A double wedding? That’s the absolute last thing I would’ve expected her to say. I open my mouth to tell her as much when Graham cuts in and says, “Yes.”
“Yes?” I screech, worried my rocketing pulse might make me pass out. “No, absolutely not.”
“Yes,” he repeats, spinning me so I’m facing him. “Let’s get married.”
Something between a laugh and a scoff flies out of my mouth, and my skin burns with everyone’s attention on us. “You can’t be serious.”
“It wou ld be perfect, Rosie!” Winnie says, entirely too cheerful. “You already have a dress and jewelry.”
Pain jolts through my neck when I turn toward her too quickly. “I’m not getting married in a green velvet dress,” I say, then shake my head and look at Graham. “We’re not getting married at all.”
“Not in that dress—”
“Everybody out,” Graham commands, startling everyone.
I flinch back, and even my dad’s spine straightens at his tone. My head thumps as I watch their furtive glances as they back out of the room, confused as to what the hell is going on.
“What the fuck, Graham?” I blurt out once the door is shut, unable to wait any longer.
“I don’t want to pretend anymore,” he confesses, outstretching his hands.
My eyebrows scrunch together. “What?”
“Us. The fake fiancé deal for networking. I don’t want to pretend anymore.
” He steps closer, clasping my hands in his.
“I’m done pretending that I don’t get to work early so I can be the first face you see in the morning, or that I care that you broke the Xerox machine.
I only bring it up so I can get a rise out of you, some kind of attention to know I’m on your mind like you’ve taken over mine.
The past few days have been…everything.”
He tucks a stray curl behind my ear, searching my expression.
“You’re smart and funny, a little scary at times, but your heart is so big, and you care immensely about the people around you.
I never expected to fall for you. Hell, I figured I’d come here, pretend to be your fiancé and get my foot in the door with some clients and then go back to real life, but you wiggled your way past my defenses and right into my heart. ”
I’m dumbfounded, unable to respond before he continues.
“You to ld me that normal couples communicate, so this is me telling you that I don’t want this to end.
I’ll tell the board we’re together and deal with whatever consequences they see fit, we can go to HR together if you want, but please tell me I’m not alone in feeling like this, that it’s not only me that wants my day to start and end with you. ”
“Graham,” I say, squeezing his hands. “Breathe.”
He inhales a calming breath, then sucks in another one for good measure. It’s not until I’m coaching him that I realize there’s a tightness wreaking havoc on my lungs. Dots dance in my peripheral until I release the breath I’ve been holding.
I rub the back of my neck. “It’s normally me nervous rambling.”
His laugh is stale. “Not this time, I guess.”
“Graham, we can’t get married.”
“Why not?”
My shoulders fall. “This was all a ruse, a lie.”
“Don’t you dare say it was a lie.”
I throw my hands out. “But it was, and you barely kno—”
“You get to work two hours early when you have a big client meeting, one so you can drink your coffee in peace and another so you can prepare your notes. You treat yourself with a Mama Margie’s margarita every Friday for surviving the week.
You listen to true crime audiobooks during your lunch break after you deal with Mr. Rosenthall because he makes you so angry.
Your favorite client is Mrs. Tetrick because she brings you a new romance book every time you meet. ”
I roll my eyes. “Those are all things you could’ve learned from just working with me on a daily basis.”
He steps forward, encroaching on my space so my back is against the wall.
“Your birthdate is June 1 st , but you tell everyone it’s in May because your favorite color is emerald green.
You’ve seen Pride & Prejudice over one hun dred times and frequently quote it when someone brings potatoes for a potluck.
You paint your toenails a different color every week to match the color wheel.
You let your hair down when you’re feeling insecure, and you still work at Thompson because you’re worried following your dreams means disappointing those who invested in you. ”
My mouth pops open, and I stare down at where I’m sure there’s a hole inside my stomach from the bomb he just set off inside there. He tips my chin up, forcing me to look at him.
“You try to hide behind humor and a smart attitude, pushing away anyone before they can get close enough to see the true you.” He swipes his thumb along my cheek, and like a damn cat, I rub my face into his palm. “I see you, Rosalina. Every rough edge and sharp point, and I love you for it.”
I rear back, blinking away tears I didn’t know had fallen. “You love me?”
“Against my better judgement.” A smile tugs at his cheek, and I playfully push him for using my favorite Pride & Prejudice quote. “I’m head over heels in love with you, Pinky.”
He leans forward to kiss me, but the door swings open to reveal my entire family plus Connor with a phone in his hand.
“Your phone kept ringing, so I answered it,” Connor says with a smirk as he hands the phone to Graham. “Some woman named Bethany.”
My face flushes, and I dig my nails into my palms as if the pain will stop me from feeling humiliation.
Graham takes the phone and places it against his ear, his features taking on a cold appearance. “What do you want?”
Winnie looks at me, her jaw tight, muscle jumping in her cheek. “You lied?”
I open my mouth to respond, but Graham’s loud voice startles me. “Where is he? What happened?”
“What’s going on?” I step up beside him, ignoring everyone else. His hand is back in his hair, gripping his scalp. Trying to get his attention doesn’t work as he listens intently to whatever his ex is saying on the line, so I place my hand over his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat.
“I’ll be right there.” He hangs up and puts the phone in his pocket with a pained expression on his face. “My dad is in the hospital. I have to go.”
“Okay, give me a minute to grab my stuff.”
He stops me. “No, you need to be here for your sister. I’ll be fine.” I try to reply, to tell him that I need to be with him, that we need to finish this conversation, but he turns toward my family and says, “I’m so sorry for any hurt we caused. Thank you so much for your hospitality.”
With one last kiss on the forehead, he leaves, taking all the air in the room with him. There’s a breath of silence before everyone’s gazes land on me, and I shrink back, feeling the compulsion to flee before a million questions come barreling my way.
“Connor, give us the room, would ya?” Dad says, opening the door. “And let Kieran know we’ll be up there shortly.”
“Sure thing, sir.” Connor shuffles toward the door, sparing a moment to look at me over his shoulder. His jaw is tight, a look of indignation marring his features, and I feel nothing as I look at him.
When it’s only my sisters, stepmom, and Dad left in the room, I collapse into the chair and let my head fall into my hands. “I’m sorry.”
“Mija,” Dad says with a gentle voice. “?Por qué mentiste?”