Page 91 of The Christmas Trap

Lark

Resist the urge to alphabetize the ornaments by color again.

—From Lark’s Christmas to-do list

"Are you okay?" Harper asks in a low voice.

No, I’m not.

My groom literally bolted from my side, minutes after we exchanged vows.

And it’s not like this is some fairy-tale love match. We married for reasons that have nothing to do with romance and everything to do with our own agendas. This is far from the perfect wedding Ienvisaged for myself.

I should be mortified. But for the first time in my life, appearances don’t matter. I don’t really care how disastrous it looks from the outside. I’m too busy worrying about my husband.

Is he alright?

I saw his expression as he walked away, and it gutted me. He looked tortured. What’s happening in his head? How do I reach him? How do I help?

But I can’t share my concerns with her. And I don’t want to lie to her. So, I avoid answering her.

Instead, I clear my throat. "Can you get me a glass of water, please?"

Harper’s forehead creases. She looks like she’s going to push for an answer, so I send her a half smile. "Please?"

Her lips turn down. She doesn’t look happy, but she nods. Then turns and heads to the counter with drinks which has been set up against the far wall of the anteroom.

It’s adjacent to the main chambers where we married. I’m waiting with the rest of the Davenports, including Imelda. And for Brody and Arthur to rejoin us so we can head to Arthur’s place for the reception.

Outside the window, flecks of snow drift down from the sky. It looks like it's going to be a white Christmas. My favorite. But I can’t find any joy in it.

I play with my engagement and wedding rings, casting another glance toward the door.

What’s taking them so long? James reassured me that Brody would be along shortly. That he and Arthur were catching up. What could have happened for Brody to stalk off like that? Was he having second thoughts? This was his idea, after all. So, what set him off?

Tyler’s daughter Serene screams as she runs past me with Sinclair and Summer’s son Matty in hot pursuit.

Then Serene trips and falls, and bursts out crying.

Before I can think twice, I race toward her, pick her up and examine her knees, then her hands. She’s unhurt. But the shock must have gotten to her.

“It’s okay, honey.” I sit down and pull her into my lap. “You’re good.”

Matty appears next to me, followed by Serene’s mother Priscilla, who I met earlier.

“Is she okay?” Priscilla sinks down next to me.

“She’s fine. Just shaken.” I rock the little girl in my arms, imagining what it would be like to have my own child. Perhaps, with Brody's dark hair and my green eyes…

Her crying lessens, and she looks up at me with luminous eyes.

She sniffles. “You look like a princess.”

I smile. “Thank you.”

She touches the fabric of my new dress. “It’s so soft.”

“I’m so sorry, it’s crumpled.” Priscilla holds out her arms, and I hand over Serene.