Page 68

EMORY

M y heart is pounding as I walk across the grass. I force myself not to run to the main house. I can’t show up sweaty, with my face the color of the dress. The note is crushed in my fist.

He’s claiming me.

At least that’s what I think it means. The words I’ve been putting off saying are pushing at my lips, threatening to spill out before I even reach Aiden. I have to tell him. Tonight. I haven’t resolved anything with my family, but it doesn’t matter.

Aiden, over everything.

Aiden, who I care about more than I care about myself.

I rub my fingers over the note as I round the garden path to the edge of the main house.

The dress billows behind me, a red flag that causes guests to turn and stare.

The note is a love note. I never considered the possibility that Aiden might say it first, and absurd, joyful bubbles fill my veins.

If hope has a taste, it’s the air in the garden at Crownhaven at sunset.

I feel like I’m floating as I walk up the steps to the main house, lifting the layers of silk so I can climb faster.

The doors are open to the ballroom. It’s smaller than I remember from the night I snuck in.

Guests are crammed in the entrance, each in pale pinks, florals, and whites.

I feel the stares as I arrive on the landing.

I don’t even mind that they’re staring. All that matters is finding Aiden. I have to tell him first. I imagine pressing my fingers to his lips so I can get the words out before him. I picture him smiling under my hand, that secret smile just for me.

The crush of people in the entrance gets thicker as I move through the ballroom. Where is he? I stand on my tiptoes, but I don’t see him. I don’t see Tristan or Sienna either.

Guests move aside for me, recognizing me. I can do this. I just need to wear my clothes like armor, like they do. I tip my chin up and keep walking.

“Pretty dress,” one woman says.

I favor her with a smile. Her companion whispers something, but I don’t catch it.

I spy Sienna all the way across the ballroom, but I don’t see Aiden. She motions at me, her face serious, and I wave back. I need to find her brother first.

I’m on my tiptoes again when I hear it—my name, then a ripple of sound.

“I’m sorry,” a woman says bluntly. She rests two fingers on my arm. “I’d make sure he paid me a lot of fucking money to make up for this.”

“What?” I give her a puzzled smile, still searching for Aiden. Her face is sympathetic, and unease slithers through me.

“To fake the marriage,” she says, then shakes her head. “Men. Always thinking they can have whatever they want with no consequences.”

I barely hear the end of her sentence over the roaring in my ears. I glance around. Everyone is staring, though most are trying to hide it. Some of the bolder guests aren’t even trying. The stares I thought were appreciative?

They’re actually pity.

This is so much worse than Harrison.

“Fake the marriage?” I ask dully.

She squeezes my arm. Her eyes are kind. “For the land deal. Even though your families hate each other. I’m sure you wanted to keep it secret. But things have a way of getting out with this crowd.”

“I guess they do.” My heart is pounding so hard that I feel it even in my hands. I press a fist to my stomach.

She frowns. “Do you want some water?”

“I’m okay.”

“You don’t look okay.”

I crane my head to look for Aiden. I have to know how he’s handling this. He hates being the center of attention. “I just—” I swallow away the sourness of my mouth. “I don’t like lying,” I say faintly. People are watching our interaction with unguarded stares.

“Well, now it’s out in the open,” the woman says kindly. “And now he can find someone else. Don’t worry.”

I feel like I’ve been sliced in the stomach. “Find someone else?”

She nods, her brow crinkling in concern. “That’s what they’re saying the party tonight is for.”

The pain of that slice starts to spread.

“I’m going to get you some water,” she says before she turns for a waiter.

I can’t even think about water.

It happened again.

My gaze swings to the pitying faces surrounding us. They think Aiden is doing what Harrison did. He’d never pick me. Of course . I nearly choke on air. I need to talk to Aiden. I stand on tiptoe again, scanning the crowd, the whispers of everyone around me pressing on my skin like grasping fingers.

Where is he?

There. Looking every inch the Heir in his tuxedo, his hair pushed off his forehead. Talking to a brunette in a floral dress.

I have to get to him. Maybe he doesn’t know yet. He wouldn’t look so unconcerned if he knew. I take a swift step forward, the crowd parting for me, or perhaps drawing back from me.

And then she puts her hand on his arm, and he tips his head back and laughs.

I swear I hear that laugh across the ballroom. Some trick of the architecture brings me the velvet texture of it. The sound that he makes only for me, he makes for her. She grins, and I recognize her.

Amy.

I stop mid-step, my heart racing.

I can’t do this. I’m going to be sick. My head swings around as I hunt for an exit. I just need a minute. A minute alone, to gather myself, to reconstruct my armor, to keep myself from crying.

My breath comes in short pants. I just need—there.

“Excuse me,” I say politely through the roaring in my ears.

Guests part and I disappear down the hallway where I met Aiden that first night.

I barely see the paintings and the doors on either side, my hands shaking, my legs trembling.

When I’m far enough away and close to collapsing, I try a handle.

It opens, thank god, and I slam the door behind me.