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When I finally arrived on the ground floor, I abandoned all pretenses and broke into a flat-out run. I ignored the passing shouts and curses.

Adrenaline fueled my pace, but that didn’t stop an ominous feeling from spreading in my chest.

Please don’t let me be too late.

CHAPTER28

Ayana

“Are you okay, Ayaniye?” my mother asked. Combining the first one or two syllables of a person’s name with the suffix -iye was a common Ethiopian endearment, but she hadn’t called me Ayaniye since I was a teenager. It unleashed a painful wave of nostalgia. “You look a little tense.”

“I’m fine. Just pre-wedding jitters.” I smiled, hoping she couldn’t see past the perky mask I’d put on since she arrived in New York.

We were waiting for our cue to enter the church. My bridesmaids were already lined up for their walk down the aisle, but my mother had stayed with me instead of sitting with the rest of my family. My father stood a respectful distance away, giving us space for our last mother-daughter talk before I officially became a married woman.

Married.

My stomach pitched at the thought.

I looked the part. I was dressed in a stunning gown spun with delicate floral lace and flowy tulle. My makeup was perfect; my hair was pinned half up, half down, and adorned with pearls, courtesy of Kim. I’d accessorized with my mother’s heirloom gold-and-diamond earrings.

It was the world’s most beautiful cage.

“Good.” My mother squeezed my hand, a touch of worry in her eyes. She’d aged in the years since I left home. Gray streaked her hair, and fine lines fanned from the corners of her eyes. But her skin remained a smooth, unblemished brown, and her eyes were bright with knowing as she studied me. “It’s a big day. All your father and I want is for you to be happy.”

Was this standard pre-wedding advice, or did she know something was wrong? I thought I’d done a good job of pretending, but never underestimate a mother’s intuition.

“I know.” I squeezed her hand back even as tears crowded my throat.

I wanted to fall into her arms and let her soothe my troubles like I was a kid again. Back then, things had been easy. There’d been no contracts, predatory agents, or complicated feelings toward best men. My parents had shielded me from the worst of the world.

I banished the thought of Vuk as quickly as it arose.

I would not let himormy feelings for him ruin this. I’d chosen this path; it was time to walk it. Once I was free from Beaumont, this would all be worth it.

Orchestral music swelled. The bridesmaids entered the church, and my father beckoned me. It was almost time.

“How did you know Dad was the one?” The question spilled out in a rush.

I wasn’t sure what prompted it. I’d taken my parents’ love for granted my entire life. They’d met at the restaurant where they both worked decades ago—my father as a line cook, my mother as a waitress. They quickly fell in love, and she was the one who’d encouraged him to open his own restaurant after their old employer retired.

“I can’t explain it. I just knew,” my mother admitted. “It’s not a checkbox of qualities,mamaye. It’s a feeling.” She placed a gentle palm against my cheek. “I know that’s not very helpful, but when in doubt, trust yourself. Your heart always knows, even if your head doesn’t.”

I smiled and tried to breathe through the blossoming ache in my chest.

Call off the wedding.

I can’t.

The flash of hurt in Vuk’s eyes resurfaced in my mind. I forced it aside.

Listening to my heart was nice in theory, but this was the real world. I didn’t have the luxury of idealism.

The doors opened again. My mother went in first. Then I took my teary-eyed father’s arm, and we walked down the aisle.

I felt like I was disassociating as I put one foot in front of the other. The faces of family and friends blurred when I passed them, and I couldn’t feel anything except the painful thumps of my heart.

Jordan stood at the altar, his expression taut. His mouth was fixed in a semi-convincing smile of a groom in love.