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Chapter 6
With my shoes and my skirt bundled up in my left hand, I took Christian’s hand with my right and let him haul me out of the car. I gingerly crossed the dirt yard and followed him through the doorway. The inside of the cabin wasn’t as bad as Christian had been threatening. It was a little dusty and sparse, but it was country cute and appeared to be used on a regular basis. There was lots of oak and floral patterns. It had a small kitchen, seating area, and a queen-size bed with a brass headboard. A decorative pillow propped against the regular pillows read Cabin Life.
Christian seemed surprised that it was in as good a shape as it was. “I didn’t know anyone ever came here, to be honest,” he said. “I mean, not since we were kids. Then in high school Cain and I used to bring girls here.”
That made me give him a rueful look. “So nothing has changed?” I bent over, holding on to the small kitchen table, and slipped my shoes back on. My dress was too long without their height.
He just grinned and started poking around, looking in cupboards. “Guess not. But it seems someone in my family has a secret, because this looks clean and in use. Make yourself at home. I’ll go get your bag out of the car.”
My God, what was I doing? This was so far removed from what was supposed to be happening today that it was surreal. Mind-boggling. As Christian went back out the front door I paced the small cabin in my heels and chewed my lip. I had to call Bradley. I owed it to him to speak to him even though my stomach said be a coward and just ghost him.
I took a deep breath and looked at my phone.
Where the hell are you?
That was from my mother.
Get your ass to this church right now.
That was Bradley.
My gut tightened. Closing my eyes, I set the phone on the table, called Bradley, and put it on speaker. I didn’t want to hear his voice in my ear.
“Bella, sweetheart,” he said, voice sounding muffled. “Whatever is going on with you, let’s deal with it tomorrow. Come back here and let’s get married. I’ll just tell people you weren’t feeling good. We’ll only be an hour behind schedule.”
That feeling like I couldn’t breathe came back full force. “Bradley, I can’t marry you. I can’t just be okay with you sleeping with other women. I just can’t live like that.”
There was a pause, then he spoke. “So you decided to wait until thirty minutes before our wedding to tell me that?” His tone shifted, grew disgusted. “That’s not bitchy at all.”
At first I thought I deserved that, then I realized he was the one who had shit on our relationship. “I just found out literally days ago! It’s a lot to process so soon before our wedding. And I’m glad I found out. I can’t believe I’ve been stupid enough not to see what you were capable of.”
“Well, you’re not the smartest girl I’ve ever met, that’s for sure. But you are supposed to be the nice girl, Bel. Not the fucking cunt who bails on our wedding.”
His words shocked me. I had never heard him talk like that in our four years together, and it became completely obvious that I didn’t really know Bradley at all. He had shown me what he wanted to so I would marry him and be his corporate wife, his eye candy.
I didn’t know if I could even believe he actually loved me.
Christian came back in and heard Bradley’s words. He gave a snort of derision.
But I barely even noticed because I was so ticked off at Bradley. Who says something like that to the woman they were planning on marrying? I tried to think of a scathing response, but I’m not good at the burn. I never have been. I always default to something generic that winds up sounding tepid and nothing like the internal rage or upset I’m experiencing.
“You…you are such a jerk!”
There it was again. That was not exactly going to cut him.
Exasperated, I reached out and tapped the button to end the call. Hanging up on him was at least something. “Argh!” I started to scroll through my texts, but there were too many.
Some were concerned, like Kennedy and Soph, but others were abrasive, accusatory. Bradley’s mother gave a more polite version of what he had said. My mother sounded at first worried, then frantic, then just flat-out pissed off. The wedding planner had called four times.
Christian was watching me, having set my bag down on the kitchen countertop. “You okay?” he asked.
I tucked my phone into the pocket of the overnight bag and gave him a brilliant, if somewhat hysterical, smile. I had gone from sad and upset to mad as hell. “I’m fine. I can tell you now I don’t feel as guilty over leaving as I did. Bradley is a creep.” And I was a fool. But we would take that thought out and dust it off and dissect it later. Right now I couldn’t deal with it.
I just needed to shed this gown and be distracted.
By a hot guy like Christian.
“You shouldn’t feel guilty. And I think creep is understating it.” Christian came over and cupped my cheek with his rough hand. His pale blue eyes searched my face. “You’re a very sweet girl, do you know that?”
