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He stops when he sees the phone in my hand. Words have deserted me. All I can do is hold it up, showing him his crimes.
“I can explain,” he says quickly.
“No, you can’t,” I shoot back. “There’s noexplainingthis. Who are all these women?”
“They’re nothing,” he says. “They’re nobodies. They don’t matter.”
I toss the secret phone onto his bed. “I think that’s actually worse,” I say. A tear trickles down my cheek, catching at the corner of my mouth. I stare at him for a moment.
“Why?” I ask, and my voice breaks.
Luke shifts uncomfortably and doesn’t speak. His silence infuriates me.
“Why bother getting engaged at all?” I demand.
“Because I love you,” he says.
The words are so hollow I’m shocked they don’t have an echo.
“No, you don’t,” I shoot back. “That,” I point to the phone, “is not what you do when you love someone. So, why not just stay single, run around, have your flings, fuck whoever you want?”
Luke hesitates.
“I had to get married,” he admits. “Dad says it’s the only way to be taken seriously in our business. Clients trust family men. He wouldn’t even consider giving me the Sixth Ave properties until we got engaged.”
I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. These people. These fucking people. Russell Everton and now Luke. Do they even understand the concept of love? Is everything a transaction to them?
Luke seems to realize how his words sounded. “I really like you, though. I want to be with you,” he says. “Let me make it up to you, Isla. I can change, I swear. What do you want? A bakery? I’ll buy you a bakery. One you can run yourself. You can have anything you want. Just say the word.”
“You think you canbuyme?” I say. “Do—did you ever even know me at all?”
The answer is clear—he didn’t. And I didn’t know him either. I see everything in a different light now. This entire relationship feels like one big soap bubble. Glossy and pristine on the outside but empty. And now it’s ready to pop.
I yank the ring off and toss it on the bed next to the phone. “This is over. I’m done.”
I storm out of the room, down the stairs, and into my car.
I don’t stop driving until I get to Charlotte’s house.
“Isla, what happened?” she cries when she opens the door and sees my face.
I burst into tears.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CADEN
I spend the next few hours in a tornado of unrest.
Goddamn Luke and his silver tongue. What if Isla believes him? Maybe I should have called Al back from the city to back me up. Though Isla might not be inclined to believe any Evertons at the moment.
I swim some laps to try and work out this frustration. I’m itching to go find Isla and explain everything again. I wasn’t prepared for her to show up like that. I hadn’t worked out what to say—the best way to phrase things, how to combat Luke’s claims. That fucker really knows how to lie. There was just enough truth in the mix.
As I get out of the pool, I see Daisy hurrying down the steps of the terrace.
“I just got off the phone with Isla Davenport,” she says in a rush. “She’s called off the wedding.”
I feel a split second of shock before there’s an eruption of relief in my chest.