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“Shut. Up.” The words came out of Maggie’s mouth cold and cruel, but she didn’t care.

Her mother blinked, as if she were somehow the victim of this attack. “See how you speak to me?”

The waiter returned with her martini. She glanced at Perrin, her eyes brimming with unspoken apology. “I’m sorry. I tried.”

She chugged the chilled vodka in her glass and stood. The martinis and lack of food didn’t mix very well with her heels, but she made it work, only slightly banging her hip into the table and alerting everyone to her exit.

Bran’s family stared up at her totally oblivious to the dysfunction at the other end of the table. Ryan watched her as well, his brow creased with what she dreaded might be pity.

“Oh.” She lifted the untouched champagne flute in front of her sister. “To the happy couple. May you both live—” Her words ceased in her throat, and she tried to think of an appropriate well wish for the soon to be bride and groom. Then she realized she hit the nail right on the head. “I hope you both live to see everything you dreamed come true. Excuse me.”

She left the back room without a second glance. When she reached the sidewalk, she gasped for fresh air, trying to force back the tears that threatened to come. She would not be the sloppy disaster that cried in the middle of town.

Withdrawing her phone, she sent a quick text to her sister.

I’m so sorry I ruined your night. I just can’t deal with her self-righteous attitude when she doesn’t have a fucking clue what she’s talking about. I understand if you want to pick someone else to be your maid of honor. I’m sorry.

Pressing her hand into her stomach, she caught her breath and stumbled in the direction of home. Her phone buzzed.

You didn’t ruin anything and I want YOU as my MOH—exactly as you are. Mom was out of line. I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you.

Even drunk and hurting, she knew she didn’t deserve such easy forgiveness. Plucking her shoes off her feet, she ambled home but somehow made a wrong turn and found herself sitting in the cemetery alone at night.

She tugged off her earrings and tossed them on his grave, not caring where they landed. “Your wife’s become the kind of woman we used to stare at and pity.”

She wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “You know, I tell myself all these things like get out of bed, get dressed, no drinking today, don’t lock the door in case Nash loses his house keys again. But it’s all bullshit.”

She wished she had another martini. It was getting cold and her feet were freezing.

“This dress is useless. Oh, and you know what else? I’m going to die from lack of sunlight.” She nodded and twisted her lips. “My mom’s got it all figured out. So I can probably stop worrying about all the other ways I might go. It’s going to be a vitamin D deficiency in the end.”

She closed her arms around her knees and rested her head on them. “Do you know she actually had the balls to accuse me of not realizing how fragile life is? What is wrong with that woman? And my dad just sits there, like our dysfunctional pecking is perfectly normal.”

She shivered. Her nose started to run, but she had nowhere to wipe it. Her fingers burrowed into the grass, finding the ground cold.

“What am I doing, Nash?”

No answer, per usual. She let out a frustrated breath and pressed a kiss to her fingers before touching them to his name. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She grabbed her shoes and wandered through the cemetery to the front gate. Just as she turned onto the road twin headlights beamed at her, and she lifted an arm to shade her eyes as she squinted. The vehicle moved slowly, and she sucked in a breath when she recognized it as Ryan’s truck.

Her heart thundered with confusion. What was he doing there? Why wasn’t he with Willow?

His window rolled down. “Can I drive you home?”

Chapter 26

Maggie looked up at Ryan, her pale face bathed in moonlight and her eyes pink from crying. “What are you doing here?”

He figured she’d ask that. No way to lie his way out of the obvious. “I followed you.”

She frowned. “But you were at dinner.” Her gaze searched the truck. “Where’s your date?”

“She’s still at the restaurant with her family.”

“You should go back and get her.” She pivoted and started walking.

“Maggie, wait.” He left the truck running and went after her on foot.

“Go away, Ryan.”

“Stop telling me to go away.” He caught her arm, forcing her to stop walking. “I want to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“Tonight.”

She shook her head and looked away. “I’d really rather not.”


Tags: Lydia Michaels Jasper Falls Romance