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He gives me an amused grin. “I’d felt so guilty having these lustful thoughts about her, and she was over there encouraging it.”
“Then why’d she agree to marry Gabriel?”
“Because Greg made her. Threatened the same kind of stuff to her he did with Emma. He purposely kept them under his thumb so he could pull these kinds of stunts.”
He shifts in his seat, leaning forward. “Serena keeping that to herself is obviously nowhere on the same level as your situation. I get that you’re hurt. I’d be too. But you should at least hear her out. Listen to her side of the story before completely dismissing her.”
“Did she ask you to come here and say that?”
“No.” He gives a slight smile. “In fact, she outright asked Serena not to talk to you about any of it.”
She’s always trying to figure things out for herself, isn’t she? “And you decided to ignore that?”
He shrugs. “I needed to make sure you had all the facts.”
My stomach twists. Would Emma have ever reached out otherwise? “Usually I’m the one to do stuff like this.”
His mouth lifts on one side. “Thought I’d take over the reins for a bit.”
“I’ll talk to her,” I tell him, the decision bringing up a slew of emotions I’ve worked so hard on crushing. Hope. Longing. Anticipation. I’ve spent the past two days focused on that feeling of betrayal every time I started to miss her, every time I wondered if I’d overreacted.
Archer nods. “Whatever you decide, I’m just letting you know Serena wants Emma to come to the wedding too. I hope you can be civil.”
“Yeah, of course. I won’t ruin your big day.”
He watches me a beat longer. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” he says, standing. “She’s moved her and her mom’s stuff into our guest room. If you have an issue with it, I can book her a hotel instead.”
“No, it’s fine. I don’t want her to be… homeless or anything.”
Just a few days ago, it would have been me taking care of this. Me finding a place for her to stay. Making sure she was okay.
Now it’s my brother. Her brother-in-law.
God, this is a clusterfuck.
Archer leaves and I once again hang my head in my hands. Can we come back from this? Can I get past the lie? If what Archer said is true, I need to hear her out. Have her tell me herself.
But as I reach for my phone, there’s that punch in my gut all over again, my hand wavering before it drops to my side.
What the hell am I going to do?
Chapter Thirty-Three
Emma
Connor:The designer’s finished with the apartment. It looks good.
I stare at the message for the tenth time in the last five minutes, still unsure how to respond. Radio silence for three days and now this comes out of the blue? As if nothing’s happened between us?
Is he trying to open the lines of communication? Simply letting me know since I was in charge of the project? Did he send it to the wrong person?
With my luck, it’d be the last one.
I peek over my sewing machine, double-checking the door to the workroom is shut tight. It’s only my second day here at Bewitching Bridal as their newest seamstress, and I don’t want to get caught slacking on the job. I’m just thankful I had a good recommendation from Mackenzie, who knows the owner and got me an interview so quickly.
I tap my thumbs against the back of my phone, debating how to respond. If he’s extending any kind of olive branch, I need to grab it with both hands and hold on for dear life.
Me:That’s great. I’m glad you like it.