Page 99 of Bared Betrayal

“I thought I saw his car outside when I pulled up. But it was gone when I came back from the café.” He looks back to the front of the building.

“Sorry. I haven’t seen him,” I lie, and it tastes so bitter, so vile, I wish I could cut the lie from my tongue.

“Hey, listen.” He leans with his shoulder against the wall, crossing his arms. “My grandma called. She said you didn’t show up for the first fitting this morning. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. No.”Shit.I can’t do this anymore. This morning when I received the stern reminder from Elenor about the dress fitting, I wanted to crawl into a ball and barf. The thought of trying on dresses and flipping through sketches of wedding gowns, veils, and tiaras makes me nauseated. I had no intention of going. I had no intention of having Gabriel fuck me, either. God, this has gone on long enough.

I wipe my fingers along my forehead, staring at the floor as I search for the right words. Who am I kidding? There are no right words for what I’m about to do—what Ineedto do. I just have to say it—just peel the Band-Aid right off.

I inhale deeply and close my eyes. “I can’t do this, Sebastian.”

“Of course, you can. You just go to the fitting and look at the options my grandmother picked out for you.”

“No. I don’t mean—”

“The wedding is in a few weeks.”

“It’s not—”

“You need to get your shit together, Kallie.”

“Excuse me?”

He roughs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what’s been going on with you, but you need to get your head straight. We’re getting married, and I know it’s probably just pre-wedding jitters that have your head all messed up—”

“Messed up?” I narrow my eyes at him.

“Do you know how many women out there wish they could have this type of wedding? A wedding where there are no budget constraints. A wedding where A-listers are guests. My God, Kallie. George and Amal are on the guest list, for Christ’s sake.”

“You think that’s what matters to me? The fucking guest list and the amount of money being poured into the wedding?”

“Well, it should.” He shrugs. “My grandmother is bending over backward to make this a wedding we’ll never forget. The least you can do is show up at your fucking dress fitting.”

“I don’t want to get married, Sebastian.” The words come out in a rush as I meet Sebastian’s eyes head-on.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean it, Sebastian. This wedding—this whole thing—just feels like one huge charade.”

He shakes his head as though he doesn’t hear me right, the tension now sharp enough to cut through glass. “That doesn’t make any sense at all.”

“It makes perfect sense,” I say firmly, standing my ground for once. “This isn’t me, Sebastian. This big fucking wedding, the parties, the media, it’s not me. None of this is me.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to marry you, Sebastian.” There’s a sharp pang in my heart as I finally speak the truth. “I’m sorry.”

He stares at me in disbelief, then scoffs with a smirk as if he doesn’t believe me. “You’re not making any sense, Kallie.”

“No, actually, I am, for the first time since all this started.”

His eyes widen, his brows furrowed, and his forehead creased. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“This pretend fairytale that we’ve been living in since the day you proposed.” My voice shakes a little as I speak. “It has to stop.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrow as he steps forward, his hand reaching out to grab mine. “You’re nervous. I get it.”

“It’s not that.”