Page 194 of Morally Black Betrothal

And with that, it was over. Twenty years of my life, gone. The company I’d helped build, the empire I’d sacrificed everything for, the family I’d thought would always have my back—all of it finished.

I gathered my things and walked toward the door, feeling strangely light despite everything I’d just lost.

“Brendan,” Shea called after me, but I didn’t stop.

“Brendan!” Owen’s voice was sharp with fury.

I paused at the door, looking back at the room full of people who’d just forced me out of my own life. I’d known it was coming the second I signed those papers in the sugarhouse, but it didn’t make it any easier.

Or maybe it did.

After all, I’d come into this room knowing I’d already lost but had still somehow gained everything.

“For what it’s worth,” I told them, “it was never fake. Everything I’ve ever said about her. Everything I’ve ever asked of her was real. The only thing false in it were the things I told myself. But you should get used to her because Simone Bishopwillbe my wife, contract or not. And I could never regret that.”

46

READY TO FLY

Simone

“Brendan?”

My voice echoed through the penthouse just past seven in the evening as the elevator doors shut behind me.

Nothing answered.

My chest grew tight.

It had taken me most of the afternoon to build up the courage to come here. By the time Brendan and I had made it back to Boston in time for his board meeting, the magic of the night before had all but disappeared, swallowed by uncertainty.

And itwasmagical, staying up half the night in each other’s arms, reiterating over and over again with our bodies and words the thing neither of us seemed to believe completely: that webothloved each other. Would do anything for each other. Always.

It was only in the morning, when we woke to those horrible headlines, that the spell started to fracture. By the time Brendan had dropped me in Jamaica Plain, it was completely broken.

Unsure of what to do, I’d given him the things I assumed he would need for the day. A kiss on the cheek. A reminder that I loved him. And the large diamond ring that was the primary part of my costume as his fake fiancée.

After all, I didn’t need it anymore, did I?

He’d given me a strange look as he’d tucked it into his pocket but hadn’t argued.

Which meant I had no idea where we stood now. Especially since there had been no more communication since. Not even a single text.

So, I’d spent my day trying not to obsess about where Brendan was and what we were doing. I had other things to worry about. Like packing my things and ending my life in Boston.

And it was the end. I hadn’t said it out loud to anyone yet, but it was the truth.

Dad needed me.

Kylie needed me.

The farm needed me too.

The only one I wasn’t sure about was Brendan, and that wasn’t exactly a question I could ask via text. What was I supposed to write?

Thanks for the earth-shattering sex last night. I’m so in love with you it hurts. Hope you still feel the same.

Btw when you said you loved me, did that mean we’re still together even though the world knows we were faking it?