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O-kay. I know I should try to break the awkwardness, but nothing comes to mind. My mouth is as dry as the Sahara.
The bed sinks, then rises. “I’m going down to the bar,” Colton mumbles in an exasperated tone.
Here I haven’t slept in the same bed as a man in years, and he can’t even stay five minutes next to me without fleeing. I know this isn’t ideal, but he could be a little nicer about the whole thing. None of this is my fault.
Light fills the room as he walks into the bathroom. Minutes later, he steps out of it fully dressed.
“You’re serious?” I ask, propping myself on my elbows.
“I’m not tired. Jet lag,” he snaps. “See you tomorrow.” With that, he slips out and closes the door behind him.
I whip the cover off in a swift movement so I can breathe and try to fall asleep, but I end up tossing and turning for what seems like hours in this tiny bed. Every time I hear footsteps in the corridor, I think Colton is coming back. And every time, my heart sinks as the room stays plunged in darkness.
When I wake up, Colton still isn’t lying next to me. I didn’t hear him come back last night. My heart freezes. What if he met someone at the bar? What if he slept in someone else’s room?
I lie back on my pillow with a groan. Why do I even care? I’m not supposed to care. Actually, you know what? I don’t. He can do whatever he wants. Sure, it doesn’t seem fair that he’s allowed to see other people and I’m not, but I didn’t think twice about that when I signed the contract. Now, I want to rip it apart.
I groggily haul myself out of bed and shuffle to the bathroom. When I come out, he’s sitting in the armchair near the window, looking at his phone.
“Oh, you’re back. I didn’t hear you come in.”
His eyes meet mine, but I look away. “Did you sleep well?” he asks.
“Yes. You?” I shoot back, biting my lip.
“Yes. I didn’t wake you up when I came in, did I?”
Relief floods me. “Not at all. I didn’t hear you, not last night or this morning.”
“I had some calls to make, so I went down to the lobby.”
“What time is the wedding ceremony?”
He glances at his watch. “At four.”
“Okay. I think I’ll just grab some food and meet you there later, then?”
He frowns, then brings his eyes back to his phone. “Sounds good.”
I can’t stay a minute longer in this room with him. Today is going to be hard enough with the wedding. We’ll have to act in love for longer than ever before, and I’m not looking forward to it.
Except I am looking forward to it, and that’s the freaking problem!
At the café downstairs, I grab a muffin and a cup of coffee to go, then head outside. People say it’s always raining in England, but the cliché hasn’t proven true so far. The weather is fantastic. The sky is clear and blue, birds are chirping, and the smell of the lilies planted all over the hotel grounds hangs in the air.
The venue is located at the heart of a small town, but it’s incredibly lively because there’s a farmer’s market today. I stroll past the stalls, surprised to see so many people. Well, the wedding did bring in a lot of guests, I suppose. Looking around, I try to memorize some faces to see if I spot them again later today.
The problem with farmer’s markets is that I always want to buy every single product I lay eyes on. Homemade jams or honey, mustard, spices, soaps. I have Colton’s unlimited credit card, but I would never use it for a purchase like that. Something that’s not directly related to my job.
And just like that, it hits me. It’s all just a job, and once again, I somehow ended up trapped in a relationship in which I can’t do whatever I want. Sure, buying homemade jam is different from going out and having friends—or a life—but in the end, the feeling is pretty much the same.
Sensing a wave of tears welling up in my eyes, I hustle away from the market and sneak onto one of the smaller streets. Pausing, I suck in a calming breath. In less than twenty-three months, it’ll all be over, and I’ll have my freedom. Finally. But the relief I usually feel when I tell myself that this relationship has an expiration date doesn’t come.
To distract myself, I amble along the sidewalk, admiring the old crooked buildings and wondering what stories they could tell, until I reach a cemetery at the end of a narrow street. I’m about to turn around when movement attracts my gaze. A man just stood up from in front of a tombstone. He rubs his hands and adjusts the blazer of his suit. Just when I’m starting to think that suit and comb-up hairstyle look very familiar, the man turns around and throws something on the ground. It only takes a second for Colton to notice me.
Colton
Jane is here. At the cemetery where my mom is resting. She’s quite far away, but even from here, I can feel the intensity of her gaze. And like the coward I am, I spin back around, fixing my eyes on my mom’s tombstone again. I can’t face Jane right now. I couldn’t be with her last night, and I can’t be with her today at the wedding, pretending I’m in love with her. Not because it’s not true, but because I’m afraid it might be.
