Page 7 of Graciously His

She slapped the mascara out of my hand. I stepped back, but not quickly enough. The tube fell against my dress on its way to the floor, leaving a black smear on my waist. I bit back a groan.

“Now look what you’ve done,” Mother hissed, diving down to retrieve the mascara. “Might as well throw this out. And the flowers, too, since they’re no good.”

She walked out of my bedroom and I stared at the smear on my dress. My eyes were heating. I grabbed the makeup wipe Mother had threatened me with and dabbed at the stain. I succeeded in turning it from black to watery grey, then I moved the sash around to hide the worst of it.

Taking a long step back, I stared into the mirror. The woman there looked like a bride, no doubt, though an unhappy one. I tried to smile, thinking about Nick, about moving out of Mother’s house. About our wedding night.

There: a happy bride stood in the mirror, the stain on her dress nothing more than a shadow, a trick of the light.

Mother’s loud sobs seeped through the thin walls, but I walked past her bedroom. She’d come out soon enough on her own. No sense apologising yet. Instead, I went out to the front steps, where star jasmine grew in abundant clusters under the living room windows. I picked a few bunches, which I wove together with a hair tie. Perfect.

I turned, keen to show Mother—and froze. She was standing right behind me. She appeared to have calmed down, and I noted that the freshly-applied makeup was still pristine, despite her sobs.

“Here,” I said, holding up the flowers. “All set. Shall we get going?”

“If I’d known you wanted weeds, I’d have saved myself the money for the lilies.”

“Did you really throw them out?”

“I put them in my room. Better that than wasting them.”

“Okay.”

She helped me to the car, her rough hand on my elbow. I shook her off, my joints aflame with the bend and stretch it took to get myself seated. Mother huffed, then drove us to the registry office in stony silence. With the exception of our dresses and the star jasmine, it felt like an errand on a regular day. I tried to keep that in mind as my heart sped, knowing I was about to change my life for good.

Nick stood outside the office, speaking to someone whose back was turned. His brother, most likely. I braced myself to get out of the car, but Mother didn’t wait. She crossed the parking lot, heels clicking, almost running to embrace Nick—the man with his back to me.

I realised with a swooping feeling that I’d been mistaken: the man looking at me was not my fiancé. As Mother and Nick chatted together, the stranger wearing Nick’s face made his way towards where I sat in the car. Remembering myself, I opened the door only to lean back when he bent down and offered me his hand.

I hesitated, staring up at someone who looked like Nick, but whose hard jaw and flat eyes made him nothing like his twin.

“Grace,” he said, reaching down and taking my hand.

I expected him to pull me out of the car; instead, he leaned forward, crowding me against the passenger seat. I felt myself trembling as his face split into a dangerous grin.

“Don’t you remember me, little heart?”

Chapter 5

Nate

Ten Years Ago

Irecognised Grace through the windscreen when the car pulled up. Her mother was there, of course, but she and Nick were too busy greeting each other to talk to me. I slipped past the two of them and walked to the car, making a quick assessment of the girl I’d met so long ago. Those striations in her eyes were bright, though the sclera were a little yellow. I leaned in close, seeing that she was too thin by far, her pink cheeks gaunt with malnourishment. Nevertheless, she was the beautiful creature I'd failed to save.

I was tempted to march to the driver’s side and tear out of there with her. But the Munchausen bitch had the keys, and Grace was staring up at me with something like fear.

“Well,” I prompted, “do you remember?”

She shook her head, those eyes darting to where my brother still chatted with her mother, as if it was the two of them getting married today. I reached out, my hand hovering near her face, drawing her attention.

“I think you do remember me, Grace. Because I remember every second I had with you in that park. I remember your lacy dress and your amber-brown eyes and the way you ran away from me at first. I remember how your mother screamed for you. And what you said about food. And especially—this is the important point, Grace—I remember that you agreed to come with me.”

“Nate,” she whispered, my name falling from her lips.

I wanted to answer her with a kiss. I contained myself, glancing at where my brother stood talking to the woman who’d been hurting my girl all these years.

“That’s right,” I said, my eyes returning to her. “And here’s something I want you to know before you make the mistake of marrying my brother.” I leaned close even as I sensed that Nick and her mother were watching us now, their voices no longer chattering back and forth. “My offer stands.”