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His admission gives me hope, where there should be none. Over the years, I’ve done too much to him, and to us. I’ve destroyed whatever we could have. Whatever we could be. There was potential once upon a time, until I destroyed it completely. I don’t deserve him, and I know it.

I’m sure he knows it too.

“You look great,” I tell him, my voice low, my eyes only for him.

His gaze drifts over me again, lingering on the important bits, and he parts his lips, ready to say something.

“Sorry, Syl. I got caught up chatting with the bartender.” Cliff suddenly reappears by my side, offering me a sweating glass of God knows what. I take it from him, barely looking at Spence as I sip from my drink, crushingly disappointed the second the liquid hits my tongue.

It’s water.

“Who’s this?” Cliff asks, sliding one arm around my waist and offering his right hand to Spence. “I’m Cliff.”

“Spencer.” He shakes Cliff’s hand, his disbelieving gaze briefly meeting mine. “You work fast, Syl. Condolences in regards to your dead husband. Though it looks like you’ve moved on already.”

Before I can say a word to clarify whatever he’s thinking, Spencer is gone, striding toward the house without a backward glance.

Cliff loosens his hold on me, blinking at me in surprise before he glances in Spencer’s retreating direction. “What the hell was that all about? He thinks we’re dating? And what’s up with him referring to your dead husband? That was all sorts of rude.”

A sigh leaves me and I chug the water, fighting the disappointment that there’s not a drop of liquor in the glass. “He’s an old friend.”

“Hmm. More like a pissed-off, old friend.” Cliff’s gaze meets mine once more, amusement flashing in his eyes. “He thought we were together, which is hilarious. Can’t he tell I don’t swing your way?”

I take in Cliff, trying to see him through Spencer’s eyes. He’s handsome as usual in a black suit with a crisp white shirt, no tie. He’s tan and fit and his warm brown hair is perfectly cut so that it flops over his forehead in the most appealing way. “You’re an attractive man, Clifford. Plus, you barged into the conversation like you owned me, so I guess he assumed we’re together.”

“Really? I didn’t mean to act like that.” He frowns. “Who is he to you, anyway? And don’t say an old friend again. That doesn’t explain anything and you know it. There’s more to this.”

“I’ll tell you during the reception. Come on.” I grab hold of his arm and steer him toward the stairwell that leads down to the lawn. We’re one of the last of the guests to sit down, both of us settling in the front row, giving room to where my parents are going to sit, though my little sister Carolina is nowhere to be found. I glance around in search of her.

Anyone could pick her out of a crowd. Lina stands out. With her perfect posture and graceful moves. Her elegant neck and gleaming gold hair that she almost always wears up. I’ve heard Grace Kelly didn’t just walk, she glided like a swan on water.

That’s my sister. All those years in dance have molded her into a young woman who moves effortlessly. She still dances, is still a part of the London Dance Company, though she told me she’s had the urge to come back to New York recently.

It would be nice, to have an ally on U.S. ground. Though I’m sure Mother would try to pit us against each other, like she did when we were younger.

The music starts, everyone in their seats swiveling to watch as people approach the aisle. First is Summer’s stepfather, Howard, and her mother, Janine. They’re beaming at everyone seated as they walk down the aisle together, and I can’t help but smile in return.

It must burn my mother’s bony ass that my father’s ex-lover—the woman who broke up their marriage, once and for all—is at her son’s wedding. That the woman’s daughter is marrying her son. It’s so juicy and scandalous.

More family walks down the aisle, including my own. My father, who struts down the aisle with Carolina on his arm. Monty walks down the aisle by himself to go stand on Summer’s side, since he’s her best man. He sends an interested look in my direction, his gaze flitting to Cliff before returning to me, and I know he’s curious.

Perfect. That’s exactly what I want.

Spencer and Whit escort my mother together, leading her to her chair, which is only two away from me. I try not to catch her eye, staring straight ahead, my heart beating wildly in my ears. In my head.

It’s bad enough that she’s sitting so close. Once I married Earl, once I did that one last thing for her, I’ve kept my distance, with the exception of that one last time. When she swooped in under the pretense that she was ‘helping me’.

I don’t like her type of help. It always comes with strings attached. And it’s not up to me anymore to give her what she wants. I’m a grown woman now.

I owe her nothing.

When Summer appears and walks down the aisle by herself, the crowd is silent. Too caught up in her beauty, her obvious strength by choosing to walk alone. Admiration rises within me as I watch her, captivated by her gown, how it sparkles in the light. The way she walks straight toward Whit as if he’s the only one she needs.

I glance over at my brother, catching the way he watches her, overwhelming love shining in his normally cold blue eyes. He is so completely smitten with her, even after all of these years.

My gaze shifts, meeting Spencer’s, who’s blatantly staring at me. He doesn’t look away either when I catch him and neither do I. His expression turns downright defiant, his lip curled with disgust.

Yet his hot gaze is filled with unmistaken lust.


Tags: Monica Murphy Romance