Page 57 of My Horrible Arranged Marriage (Bancroft Billionaire Brothers #20)

MINA

I felt ridiculous. The layers of my once-perfect wedding gown were rumpled. The hem was dirty from my walk down the driveway. The corset was practically squeezing the life out of me. It had been almost comfortable when I first put it on. Now, it was threatening to murder me.

Tori led the way through the fancy lobby of the high-rise building. I wasn’t particularly thrilled to be in the city. It felt like I was too close to Isaac. Manhattan was huge and it wasn’t like we were next door or even within a few blocks of his building, but it was still close.

I leaned against the wall in the elevator.

There was a mirror across from me. I stared at my reflection in the mirrored wall.

A stranger looked back at me—mascara smudged beneath red-rimmed eyes, hair falling from what had been an elegant updo, cheeks blotchy from crying.

The woman in white was unrecognizable. She looked haunted.

Broken. Like something precious had been ripped from her chest.

“God, I’m a mess,” I whispered.

Tori squeezed my hand. “You’re beautiful. And you’re strong. That’s what matters right now.”

I touched my stomach reflexively. The baby. Our baby. Isaac’s baby. The thought sent a fresh wave of nausea through me. How could I raise a child with a man who had seen me as a contract obligation? A business transaction?

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. Tori guided me down a plush hallway lined with tasteful art and soft lighting. I felt like I was moving through a dream. More like a nightmare. Everything seemed distant and muffled, like I was underwater.

“Almost there,” Tori murmured.

She held the key fob and found the apartment we had rented at the last minute. She quickly unlocked the door and pushed it open. Turned out there were several conventions happening and hotel rooms were scarce. The BnB we found wasn’t an apartment at all. It was a gorgeous penthouse.

“This place is insane,” she muttered as we entered.

Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a sweeping view of Central Park and beyond, the city glittering in that perfect New York way.

The city could be ugly in the bright light of day when you were walking past the trash piled up and smelling some funky aromas that always made me hold my breath.

I wandered into the living area and dropped onto the velvet couch like someone who had no bones. I didn’t feel like I had anything left. The gown puffed around me in a cruel mockery of what today was supposed to be. I looked ridiculous. I felt ridiculous.

“I’ll go back to the house tonight and grab your stuff,” Tori said gently, pulling her phone out. “You need clothes, shoes, a toothbrush…”

“I need a different life,” I said.

She walked over, sat beside me, and curled a leg under herself. “We’re not doing that. You’re not spiraling into that hole. Not tonight.”

I nodded, even though every part of me wanted to crawl into that hole and never come out.

“You don’t have to stay in that dress,” she added after a beat. “Let’s check the closets.”

“I’m not raiding the closets,” I said.

“It’s not raiding. It’s a perk. It was on the listing.”

I wasn’t sure if that was real, but it was either I sat naked or I found something to put on.

We wandered into the nearest bedroom that I was claiming as mine for now.

Tori opened the double-door closet. Sure enough, plush robes hung on gold hooks, monogrammed and white, like a hotel fantasy.

I stared at them, weirdly emotional over terrycloth.

“They provide robes?” I asked with surprise.

“Yep.”

“I need to get out of this dress,” I whispered. Panic was bubbling up. I suddenly felt like it would kill me. It wasn’t an if but when.

“Okay,” Tori said. She must have picked up on my panic.

Five minutes later, the dress was coming off. The zipper had gotten stuck halfway down, but Tori managed to yank it free while I stood with my arms in the air like a tired child. I pulled on the robe, tied it tightly at my waist, and exhaled like I hadn’t in hours.

Tori took off her dress and pulled on a robe as well. She pulled her hair into a loose bun. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and passed it to me without asking. I accepted it gratefully and sat back down, the coolness against my palm grounding me.

“Hungry?” Tori asked.

“Tori, we just ate.”

“I ate. You picked. Then puked. I’ll order food. You need crackers. Ginger ale.”

I wasn’t hungry but I knew what happened when I didn’t eat every few hours. “Thank you,” I murmured.

“Can I use your phone for a second?” I asked.

There was something nagging at me. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I pulled up the article. The first one. The one that had made my stomach turn weeks ago. The one I had desperately wanted to believe wasn’t true. Isaac told me it was true, but it was all taken out of context.

I believed him. But now, I wanted to reread it and see if I had missed some details. I scrolled slowly, reading it again, but this time with brutal clarity. Someone had been trying to warn me. Not smear me. Not exploit me. Just warn me.

“Someone went to the media to warn me,” I said aloud.

“What do you mean?” Tori asked.

“Whoever talked to this journalist knew I would hear about it. They wanted me to hear about it. Who was it?”

She didn’t immediately answer. “I don’t know.”

“Who would know about the arrangement?” I asked.

She shook her head again. “That’s a question for the three stooges.”

I handed Tori her phone. Not ten seconds later, her notifications started going off.

“Oh shit,” Tori murmured.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

Her nothing meant it was absolutely something. I snatched the phone out of her hand.

“Runaway Bride at Bancroft Wedding: Duvall Heiress Walks Out on Groom.”

I didn’t even get halfway through before the nausea came back.

Jabs at the Bancroft family, subtle and sharp.

Speculation on the family’s legacy of romantic disasters.

Oddly enough, the writer seemed to be on my side.

They claimed I was smarter than a lot of the other women that had fallen for the Bancroft charm.

But it was hard to see it as a compliment when the writer also pointed out how stupid I had been to get myself into the situation.

I should’ve felt vindicated. But all I felt was humiliated.

I closed the article. Tossed the phone to the other side of the couch.

Tori didn’t say anything for a while. Just let me sit there in silence, breathing like I’d just finished a marathon.

“You’re not stupid,” she said. “That writer is an idiot.”

“I feel stupid.”

“You’re not. You fell in love. And I do believe he loved you.”

I laughed, humorless. “I fell in love with a mirage.”

“You fell in love with Isaac,” she said softly.

“And maybe that was a mistake, or maybe it wasn’t.

But it doesn’t make you dumb. You were learning how to trust someone again.

You were healing. That takes guts, Mina.

You let yourself be open, and it backfired.

But that doesn’t mean your instincts are broken. ”

“Maybe they are,” I whispered, voice cracking. “I mean how did I not see it? The signs were there. He was too perfect. Too convenient. I ignored it because I wanted to believe it. That makes me… I don’t know, na?ve. Desperate. Stupid.”

“Human,” she corrected. “You wanted something real. That doesn’t make you pathetic. It makes you brave. You wanted love and Isaac served it up on a silver platter.”

My throat ached. I felt like I was holding a scream inside. “I let myself get played. Just like with Sampson.”

“Hey.” She moved closer. “This is not the same thing. Sampson gaslit you. Cheated on you. Lied to your face while he held your hand. Isaac screwed up, yeah. Big time. But he didn’t do it to humiliate you. He fell for you. That’s obvious.”

I blinked. “Then why didn’t he tell me all of the details? He got right up to the truth but then just glided over it.”

“Because he’s a coward. Or maybe he thought he was protecting you. Maybe both.” She sighed. “But, Mina, you didn’t deserve this. And you’re allowed to grieve the future you thought you had.”

I swallowed hard. “I thought I was finally done grieving.”

“Heartbreak doesn’t work on a schedule.”

Tears burned behind my eyes. I didn’t want to cry and especially not over a man. The last six months had been all about crying over a guy who had broken my heart. I was sick of it, but dammit, the hormones were messing with my resolve. I couldn’t stop the tears.

I cried with Tori sitting beside me. She wrapped an arm around my shoulders and hugged me while I tried to purge the emotions.

“Have you thought about the baby?” she asked gently after a while. “With all this… I know it’s a lot to take in.”

I looked down at my stomach, still flat but already impossibly important.

“I’ve thought about the baby every other minute since we left,” I said quietly.

Tori nodded, waiting.

“I’m going to be okay,” I continued. “We’re going to be okay. I’m a Duvall. I have resources, I have help, I have you . I don’t need Isaac to do this. I can raise this child on my own.”

Tori leaned her head on my shoulder, squeezing my hand. “Never alone.”

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. For the first time all day, I felt a sliver of calm slip through the cracks. A small sense of control. It was freeing. Short lived, but it was the reprieve I needed.

“You’re amazing,” I murmured, leaning my head against hers. “I owe you big time.”

“You already paid your debt,” she said with a small smile.

I frowned, confused.

She leaned back and pointed at my stomach with a teasing grin. “You made me an auntie-to-be. That counts for something.”

Despite everything, I laughed.

“This is so not how I saw my life playing out.” I sighed. “I feel broken. Damaged. What the hell is wrong with me?”

“It’s not you. You’ve had a run of bad luck.”

I snorted. “Yeah, well, I’m so done with men.”