Page 114 of Seale the Deal

Wren, Remi says, forcing me to meet her eyes, she knows you. You, the woman who stepped in to help Audrey, who felt like she was drowning without pay. You, who listens to her stories and genuinely cares. That’s not some fabricated version of yourself. That’s all Wrenley St. James.

A knot forms in my throat. I feel so guilty.

I press my back against the wall of the store. This isn’t some dress in a store. It’s her history. Every fibre of that dress speaks to a story she desperately wanted a better ending to. And I’m lying to her face.

Remi finally meets my eyes. You’re not lying to hurt her. You’re lying so you can build your career again. That’s different.

And another layer of the deception surfaces. The layer where I’m trying to decide what my future looks like and keeping that from my best friend. And while, in theory, it makes sense to leave outside opinions out, it still feels like I’m doing wrong by her. But in this moment, I have to ignore those thoughts and focus on this one.

Is it? My voice cracks, and I hate that it does. Because it sure doesn’t feel different. I like her, Rem. She’s been so kind to me. And if she finds out this whole thing is fake—

She won’t, Remi assures me.

Would it be so bad if she did? I ask.

Yes, Remi says without hesitation.

I blink. Why?

Remi takes a breath. If we tell her the truth, we’re asking her to carry a secret she never agreed to carry. Every time someone mentions the wedding, she’ll be put in the position of either lying or telling the truth.

A knot forms in my stomach.

What we’re doing is illegal, Remi says. And no one else should have to risk themselves for our lie.

I press my lips together. I know she’s right. I wish her being right was enough to ease the guilt, to convince myself that not telling her is for her benefit more than mine.

Okay, I finally say. You’re right.

I’m sorry this is hard on you, she says. I didn’t… She sighs and looks up, blinking rapidly like she’s fighting back tears. I thought we could do this quietly. I should’ve paid more attention to the municipal building. Then this never—

Hey, I cut in. None of this is your fault alone. We’re in this together. You, me, and Ruger.

She looks at me and offers a small smile. I’m glad it’s the three of us.

I smile back, but I know the smile doesn’t reach my eyes. Is it really the three of us when I’m hiding that our arrangement may very well change?

Yeah, I say. Me too.

She swipes at her eyes, even though no tears have fallen. Okay. Well, I came to see if you had time to grab some lunch.

I nod. With you? Always. Let me go tell Audrey.

Remi’s smile brightens immediately, and for a moment, everything feels normal again. Like we’re just two best friends making plans instead of navigating a more and more complex situation.

As I walk back into the shop, guilt twists in my chest. I don’t know if the dreams that brought me to Alaska are the only version of my future that makes sense. And while maybe I don’t need answers today, I know I need them soon. My visa is expiring in just over a month, and it’s not fair of me to go into this wedding without knowing my ultimate plan.

Everything rests on me. And it’s a heavy burden to shoulder.

Walking to Ruger’s house, I take two wrong turns before I even realize it. My feet keep moving, but my brain is still stuck on Beryl’s dress, the secret I’m keeping from Remi, and hundreds of other little things that are piling up in my chest. By the time I look up, nothing around me looks familiar, and I have no idea how I ended up here.

I pull in a slow breath, trying to shake the fog, and turn toward the street I think will lead me back. One corner becomes another, and then I see the narrow lane with a fence I recognize. Relief hits me like warmth on frozen fingers. I let my feet follow the path to his place because I know that even if the whole day’s been upside down, I’ll feel better once I’m with him.

I open the door and walk straight into the smell of Ruger’s cooking. My shoulders drop instantly, the day’s chaos easing without my permission. It gets even better when he appears in the kitchen archway, a big grin lighting up his face.

Hey, you’re home, he says, eyes scanning my face. You okay? You look… flustered.

Yeah, I say, brushing it off. Just second-guessing the ribbon I picked for Mrs. Crachit’s corset top.