about herself. “And does she find happiness with her true love?”
“She does, for a while. In fact, she follows the dream perfectly—choosing her bridesmaids, selecting a beautiful gown, ordering the cake and designing a lovely summer wedding on the lakeside. She is in heaven, or so she thinks, and then…” Her voice trailed off and tears flowed down her cheeks. Phillip ached to hold her again, but he sensed she wouldn’t allow him to comfort her.
“And then,” he guessed, “the creep did something unspeakably horrible to spoil her dream.”
“The creep did indeed.” She angrily dashed the tears away with the heel of her hand. “I—she heard him talking to her maid of honor. Flirting. Bragging, really. He’d had too much to drink after the rehearsal party and he told the bride’s best friend that he was, in effect, marrying her for her—for her connection with the Connellys.”
“I see.” He felt her pain as his own. The story was too close to his experience with marriage. He didn’t want to hear the rest, but there was no stopping Alex. She dropped the pretense of disguising the bride as if she were someone other than herself.
“Of course, when I confronted him, he just laughed off my anger. He claimed he was just trying to shock Jessy. It was all a game, or so he said.”
“But you knew it was true,” he put in.
“Yes, it was all very clear suddenly. There were things he’d said and done while we were dating that I’d chosen to ignore or forgive. Suddenly they all made sense. He had even gone so far as to put off our honeymoon so that he could complete a project he was working on for Grant Connelly.”
“I can’t imagine any man not wanting to honeymoon with you, Alex,” he murmured, then bit his lip. Where had that come from?
She didn’t seem to have heard him. “There were other things. I knew he’d been using me, and I could see our future. I’d be just like so many of my girlfriends who married for what they thought was love, only to find they were assets. I couldn’t bear to be used that way.”
“So you walked out on him.”
“Yes. I did.” She looked down at her folded hands, her eyes dry now. “That phone message from several days ago. It was from him. From Robert.”
He could feel how difficult it was for her to even mention his name. “He wants to reconcile?”
She nodded. “Predictable. He’s not one to give up easily.”
“How has your family taken all of this?”
She shrugged. “They want me to be happy. The thing is, I haven’t told them yet what my reasons were for walking out on the wedding. When and if I do, I know they’ll support my decision.”
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