Page 74 of Claimed By The Other Brother

Another knock. Harder this time.

"Scarlett." His voice is muffled through the door.

"Please. I know you're in there. I can see your light on."

My hand hovers over the deadbolt. Every instinct tells me not to open the door. To leave him standing out there. To let him feel even a fraction of what I felt whenhe didn't show up. But my hand moves anyway. I unlock the deadbolt and open the door, keeping the chain engaged.

Miles's face appears in the gap. His eyes are red-rimmed, desperate.

"Scarlett. Please. I know I have no right to be here, but I need to talk to you."

"Talk?" My voice comes out colder than I expected.

"You want to talk now? Two weeks later?"

"I made a terrible mistake." His words tumble out in a rush.

"I panicked. I was terrified. But I love you, Scarlett. I love you so much, and I—"

"Stop." I start to close the door.

Miles slams his hand against it, preventing it from shutting.

"Please. Just let me explain. Give me five minutes. That's all I'm asking."

"I'm going to scream," I say, my voice shaking with anger.

"Scarlett." He looks at me through the gap, his eyes pleading.

"Please. Five minutes. If you still want me gone after that, I'll leave. I promise."

I stare at him. This man I spent three years with. This man I was supposed to marry. This man who humiliated me in the worst possible way. Something in his expression—the desperation, the remorse—makes me step back.

I close the door, unhook the chain, and open itfully.

Miles steps inside, and I close the door behind him but don't move away from it.

"What can you possibly say to me?" My voice is low, controlled.

"First and foremost, you owe me a fucking apology for humiliating me and embarrassing the shit out of me on my wedding day."

"I'm sorry." The words come immediately.

"Scarlett, I'm so sorry. I know that doesn't even begin to cover it, but—"

"You're sorry?" I cut him off, my anger rising.

"You left me standing in that corridor in my wedding dress. You didn't show up. You didn't call. You sent your groomsman to tell me you weren't coming. Do you have any idea what that felt like?"

"I know." Miles runs a hand through his hair.

"I know, and I hate myself for it. I was an idiot. I was terrified. I—"

"Terrified of what, Miles?" I step closer.

"Of marrying me? Of commitment? What exactly were you so terrified of that you couldn't even face me?"

"Everything." His voice cracks.