The Runaway Bride And The Billionaire. Kate Hardy
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‘What—after what he’s done? That’s totally unacceptable.’
‘It’s the law,’ she said gently. ‘Dad, really. It’s fine. I’ll manage. Don’t cut your trip short. You’re not supposed to be home until next month.’ Which should’ve been for her wedding, but that wasn’t going to happen now. ‘You and Mum have planned this trip for ever and I don’t want you missing out. It’s fine.’
‘Hmm,’ Paul said. ‘Your mother wants to speak to you.’
There was a brief pause, and then she heard her mother say, ‘Are you all right, Immi?’
‘I’m fine,’ Immi said.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. Actually, Stephen’s probably done us both a favour. When Andie got married, I realised that he doesn’t look at me the way Cleve looks at Andie, and I don’t look at him the way Andie looks at Cleve. I thought maybe I was just having cold feet, but...’
‘If it isn’t right, it isn’t right.’
But Immi could hear the worry in her mother’s voice. ‘Mum, I’m eating,’ she said gently. ‘I promise, I’m not going to start starving myself. I’m older now and much, much wiser. Do you want me to video myself eating every meal and send you the evidence?’
‘Yes,’ Julie said. ‘Well, obviously that’d be a bit excessive. But I’m your mother. I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t worry about you. I let you down last time.’
‘No, you didn’t. I was a teenager, and teenagers are very good at hiding things we don’t want our parents to know. Honestly. I’m eight years older than I was back then, and the counselling really sorted me out. My head’s in a good place. Yes, I’m angry and hurt, and I might tape Stephen’s picture on a punchbag at the gym and pound it to shreds, but that’s as far as it’ll go. Don’t worry. I really want you and Dad to finish your trip.’
‘I should be home, helping you cancel all the wedding stuff.’
‘It’s fine. I have lists. Andie’s already offered to help. It’ll be fine,’ Immi soothed.
‘But you’ll ring me if you need me?’
‘I’ll ring you,’ Immi promised. ‘But you and Dad have been looking forward to India. Just go to all the places and take a gazillion photos to show me when you get home. Love you, Mum.’
‘Love you, too,’ Julie said.
Immi had just finished packing the last of Stephen’s stuff into a box when her phone beeped again. This time it was Portia.
OMG. When did this happen? Want me to come home and scalp him?
Immi laughed and texted back,
Tonight. I’m fine. Going to tape his pic to punchbag at gym tomorrow. You OK?
Yes.
Good.
Need a hand with cancelling stuff?
No, I’ve got it. But thanks.
Right at that moment, Immi really missed her sisters and she would’ve liked nothing better than to spend an evening with the four of them curled up by the fire with mugs of hot chocolate and a plate of brownies, talking about nothing in particular. But her sisters all had busy lives. And she wasn’t going to drag everyone back to Cambridge just because her own life was taking a bit of a wobble.
See you soon, yes?
Laters, Portia texted back.
So that was the first hurdle dealt with, Immi thought. Now she needed to put her list together of people she needed to call to cancel the ceremony, the reception, the dresses and the flowers, the photographer... And she might just take her little sister up on her offer of a bolt hole in a month’s time. Facing everyone this week would be tough enough, but the week when she was supposed to have been married? That was the week she’d rather be as far away from here as possible.
And in the meantime she had work to do.
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