chapter one
Audrey
Twelve yearsago
Today's vocabulary word: steady
"CouldI possibly get a sip of water?"
Or something harder?
The wedding planner's lead assistant peered up at me from her knees, both brows cocked like I'd asked for a whole blueberry pie. "I don't think that's a good idea." She motioned to the lace overskirt she was busy straightening. The toe of my shoe had caught on the hem and if we didn't have a schedule to keep, I'd be taken out back and lashed for it. "Not after what happened here."
My cheeks flamed. I hadn't expected to be chastised quite so much on my wedding day. More to the point, I hadn't expected it to be my wedding day. I'd figured it just wouldn't occur. That he'd find someone more interesting and call it off.
A naïve assumption, obviously. That seemed to happen to me a lot—life happening to me while I didn't know any better. More now that I didn't care about much of anything. Myself least of all.
But standing here in the back of a church, bouquet in hand and seconds ticking by until I walked down the aisle, it felt as though only a small portion of myself was actually here. The rest was… Well, it'd been a long time since I'd been anywhere. Soon enough, I wouldn't exist at all.
There were a few people who'd probably prefer it that way.
"Gina." The assistant snapped to attention at the sharp whisper of her name as my sister stalked down the hall. "We need you to deal with a strap that won't stay up."
Gina gave the overskirt one last touch before pushing to her feet. She hurried away while my younger sister stared at me with that same old disgusted lip curl of hers. Too bad that always made her look like she had a snaggletoothanda mustache coming in.
I met her stare. "Do you need something, Cassidy?"
She eyed me up and down, her nose scrunching into an unfortunate piggy shape. She was a beautiful girl. But when she wanted to be ugly, she really was.
She pressed her lips together into that hard, practiced smile of hers. As if rock candy was a nineteen-year-old woman. "I just hope you're so very happy with Christopher."
Other people would think she meant those words. "You should go," I said, tipping my chin up, toward the room where the other bridesmaids were waiting for their cue. "They probably need you."
She gave me and my dress another lip-curling scoff and turned away, her heels hammering against the hardwood floor as she went. I wanted to work out some of my nervous energy and let my fingertips travel over the lace covering my dress, but I'd already had my hand slapped for that once today.
I felt the energy shift before I heard him, before I saw him. Like the sudden stillness before an explosion.
When I turned, I wasn't surprised to find him standing there in dark jeans and a butter-soft leather jacket. It'd been four years since seeing him last, but some archaic part of me had known he'd be here today. It was good that we were doing this now. The suspense would've killed me if he'd kept me waiting all day.
"Audrey." My name was little more than a sigh. A plea, maybe.
I glanced up and down the hall. There'd be hell to pay if anyone found him in this church. "Jude, what are you doing here?"
There were no fewer than forty-five different ways for him to answer this, but he chose none of the ones I wanted to hear. Instead, he raked his gaze over me, rough and irritable, asking, "Why are you doing this?"
A breath whooshed out of me as I stumbled back a step. "Please be quiet," I said.
He pushed a hand through his dark hair. His impatience sucked the air out of the hallway. "We don't have a lot of time, princess, so I need to hear you say you actually want this."
Light poured in through tall stained-glass windows, bathing the floors in streaks of gold and red. He was in the perfect spot for the light streaming through the yellow glass to cast a halo around him. Very fallen angel of him. It was hard to speak, not that I trusted myself to say anything. I'd make it worse, I knew that. It was already pretty bad.
"Say it, Audrey," he said, his voice rising as he slashed a hand toward the nave. "Tell me you want to marry this guy, that you love him and want to spend your life with him, and I won't stand up in the middle of the ceremony and fucking object."
"No, you can't do that," I said, taking a panicked step toward him.
He looked at me with wild eyes. "Convince me this is your choice and I'll believe you. I'll go. I'll give you what you want and leave you alone for good."
Everything inside me reached out to him, my fingertips craving the worn leather of his motorcycle jacket, the familiarity of him. The safety. But all I could say was, "You can't be here."
