Page 29 of Angel

‘How did you get through it?’ I asked.

‘I distracted myself with my job, the support of my friends, books, and my cooking,’ Sofia explained. ‘When it got really bad, I left him, needing the space. I sat with the misery in my hovel of a room in a shelter, feeling the sting, crying it out. Visiting the church next door to meditate helped, too. I also had hard work to help me forget or remember, depending on my daily mood. You have your incredible art, Roxy. Use your canvases to bleed out any deep, wounded emotions.’

‘How will I survive being so close with him all the time? Heck, I’m going on a freakin’ honeymoon with him. How will I be able to stand it?’

‘You’ll discover the resolve; we women always do. Surrender the outcome. If it’s meant to be, it shall be.’

I took a deep breath as I mulled over her words.

Her voice broke through my thoughts.

‘Angel’s coming.’

I glanced up, my heart kicking, as his muscled frame appeared at the archway into the alcove.

‘Sofia,’ he rasped, acknowledging Jude’s wife with a chin rise.

‘Hey Angel,’ she responded, eyes soft, studying his closed-off face.

He took an inhale, his beautiful smoky eyes rimmed with exhaustion.

‘Roxy, we need to roll. Our plane is waiting,’ Angel muttered. ‘We’ll have to stop by your apartment to pack, right?’

‘Yes please,’ I replied, nodding, my heart thumping so loud I thought he might hear it.

‘Fine,’ he grunted, checking his watch with impatience. ‘Let’s head out to my ride. See you soon, Sof.’

He bent over to kiss Jude’s wife on the cheek before prowling away.

I gave Sofia one final, desperate hug, inhaling her vanilla perfume, squeezing her hand back.

Then I stepped out into the night behind my new husband.

Angel’s silver-gray Defender growled through the humid Nashville night, the neon storefronts blurring into streaks of crimson and amber beyond the windshield.

I sat beside him in the passenger seat, clutching my bag.

I flicked my eyes to him as he reclined back, in control of the leather steering wheel, navigating the quiet cross streets toward my neighborhood.

The silence inside the cabin was so tense and stilted that I wanted to open the door at the next stoplight and flee into the night.

With nowhere to go, my mind kept looping between memories of our wedding and worry about what was to come as a migraine throbbed right behind my ribs.

How were we supposed to navigate a freakin’ romantic getaway?

I worried about the rest of our marriage.

He’d made it clear he was all for a quick separation at the earliest convenience, and that fact cut me to the soul.

Another reminder that I was never meant to be his.

I noted that even when opening the door to his ride, he avoided touching or looking at me.

Hell, it hurt.

Unaware of the churning mess of my thoughts, Angel remained silent.

The flitting light and shadows fell on the rugged line of his cheekbone, his set jaw, eyes hard and distant, as he gunned the engine.