prologue
AVA
My parents have never beenthe most loving, but I never believed they could be so unfeeling. I stare at the two of them, stunned and unable to form a coherent thought, let alone words.
My mother sits on the couch in the formal sitting room—don’t even get me started on how ridiculous it is that we have a formal sitting room while living in our small town of Harborview, Massachusetts—an air of conceit surrounding her.
My father stands behind her, a tumbler of scotch in one hand and his other resting on the back of the couch, his brows pinched in a stern look. One that would normally have me agreeing to whatever they want me to do.
“I will not marry that man. No way in hell, and the fact that you’re asking me to after what I just told you…” I shake my head, unsure how to finish that statement.
My heart breaks thinking about what they’re asking of me.
I’ve always known that my parents care about appearances. It’s why they were so upset when my brother, Declan, got a divorce. But they seemed to come to terms with that, and Ithought, when it comes down to it, they care more about our happiness than anything else.
Now I know exactly how Declan felt before he left and moved to Ashford Falls, Maryland. It’s not the same; what happened with Declan and what they’re asking of me, but I understand it all the same.
I’m left wondering how I can face them after today. Especially if they truly expect this from me—how am I supposed to continue living in this town, pretending we’re some happy family when that's the furthest thing from the truth?
“I’m done.” I turn away from them, knowing there’s no hope I’ll change their minds. I need to get out of this house, away from them and this life they’ve so carefully curated for me—a life I thought I’d been choosing for myself this entire time.
“Ava Margaret Day.” My father’s voice booms from behind me. “You will not walk out of this house without having a civilized conversation with your mother and me.”
My father’s words stop me in my tracks. “A civilized conversation? You call this civilized?” I turn to them. “We live in the twenty-first century, and you’re talking about an arranged marriage. To a man who tried to force himself on me.”
“Oh, Ava. Don’t be so dramatic.” My mother scoffs, unbothered by everything. She and my father exchange a look, communicating something silently before turning back to me. “Brian comes from a good family. There’s no way he acted even remotely like you described.”
I stare at her, trying to figure out how she became this way. I can’t remember ever feeling unsafe in my parent's presence; though, we were never close. They always pushed me to “do more” and “be better,” but never to the point that I questioned my safety and well-being.
“Dramatic?” I ask, my voice going flat. I was angry before—furious, really. But now I feel numb. “How the fuck am I being dramatic? He?—”
“Ava,” my mother interrupts, “I taught you better than that. We don’t use that kind of language in this house.”
“Who are you?” I don’t mean for that question to come out, but I can’t stop the words. I don’t recognize this woman before me.
“Ava, that’s no way to talk to your mother.” My father moves around the couch, taking his place beside her.
My mother continues as if I never said anything. “His assistant said nothing inappropriate was happening in that office. From what she could see when she walked in, she saidyouwere the one coming onto Brian—not the other way around.”
The disgust on my mother’s face makes me want to run to my room and hide like I’ve done something wrong, but I know I haven’t done anything to warrant any of this. Unless it’s work-related, I never talk to Brian. We may work at the same firm, but he’s a criminal defense attorney while I’m in family law. We rarely have the same cases or clients.
“Of course she did! She can’t afford to lose her job!” I shout, turning my back on them.
Are they so far removed from the real world they don’t know what it means to need a job?
I know I’ve lived a privileged life. Being born into one of the founding families of this small town afforded me so much, on top of having parents who were very successful in their careers. But I’ve always worked for everything I wanted. It wasn’t something my parents required, but I saw what they did to my brother when he accepted any kind of assistance from them. It was always held over his head like there was some quid pro quo to all of it, and I didn’t want that for myself. I avoided takinganything from my parents—unless I truly needed it. The only big thing I accepted from them was their help paying for school.
“Ava. This is important to your mother and I. I don’t know what happened between you and Brian, but I know it can’t be as bad as you’re making it out to be.” I hear the exasperation in my father’s voice and I want to be hurt by it, but this whole conversation has drained me. I’m too exhausted to feel much of anything.
I don’t know if it’s because I’m an adult now, but my parents have never been so hardheaded—so inconsiderate of my feelings. Maybe the issue is that I always follow what they want, no questions asked. This is the first time I’ve pushed back.
I played the sports they wanted me to play, and I did the extracurricular activities they required of me. I studied pre-law in undergrad and graduated from law school at the top of my class. And most recently, I got the job at the big fancy law firm like they pushed me to.
But this? Telling me—not asking me—to marry Brian Wellsley, a man who couldn’t take no for an answer, is just too far.
I turn back to my parents sitting on the couch. “I don’t know how to make you understand me, but there is nothing you can say or do to get me to marry that man.”
“Ava, you don’t have a choice. Everything has already been decided. The contracts are signed.” My father sounds like he’s discussing any other business deal, not selling his daughter to the highest bidder.
