Page 50 of Promised Vows

Papa cleared his throat, like a whip snapping, wiping away my momentary haze. “You can postpone the wedding.”

I blinked. “What?” After all the work I’d put into this thing? The money that was spent? Granted, that wasn’t a good enough reason to get married, but still, it was a lot of both.

“I’m not saying to completely call it off. Just slow things down. Get to know him better. You do seem to like Ari, but marriage is about love and trust. Can you say you feel either of those two things for him?”

Catching Papa’s gaze, I replied, “Thank you for caring about me and watching out for me. I promise I’m okay.” Even as I gave him the reassurance, a sliver of doubt wormed its way in, but I also tingled with the excitement of what the future might hold. “I can’t do it. Ari is the most wonderful man. I feel in my heart I need to see what my future holds and where this might go.”

A stoic mask fell over his face. “I see.”

“Please come to the wedding. I can make?—”

“No, my darling, I can’t.” He patted my hand. “While I hope you have a wonderful marriage, I will not attend a marriage that I cannot bless.”

The air was sucked from my lungs. I knew by his tone at the fundraiser that he’d had his reservations, but I never would have thought he’d refuse to attend my wedding. “What?” I said barely above a whisper.

He stood, tossing a few bills on the table. “I won’t attend a marriage that I believe is doomed to fail.”

The world spun as he casually walked out of the coffee shop like he hadn’t ripped my heart out, leaving a hollow cavern. Hot tears burned my eyes and pooled in the corners. Before I could wrangle them, they were racing down my cheeks.

Fueled by hurt and the desperate need for comfort, I shakily picked up my phone and called Ari.

“Anna? Where are you? What’s wrong?” An urgency infused his voice.

“I...” The sob escaped before I could stop it, a choked sound that ripped through the carefully constructed dam holding back the flood. “I’m at...” I rattled off the address, each word punctuated by a shaky breath. “Would you please come get me?”

“Ten minutes. Stay inside the shop.”

“Okay.” I inhaled a ragged breath, burying my head in my hands. The apology died on my tongue, choked back by the lump forming in my throat. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have?—”

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll talk about it when I get there.” A beat of silence, then a softer tone, “See you in a minute, sweetheart.” The endearment sparked a warmth in my chest and did more to soothe my frayed nerves than he could ever grasp. I hope he kept that calm when I told him who I’d been meeting.

I stood and walked towards the bathroom, slipping inside the single-stall room right as the previous occupant walked out. “Let me freshen up, and I’ll call you back, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Ari?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for…being you.”

A low chuckle rumbled through the phone. “You owe me at least an hour’s worth of making out for this one.”

Rolling my eyes, I replied, “If you’ll recall, Mr. Broken and Bruised, I’m the one with the IOUs.”

“That mouth,” he said with a sigh. “Hold on. I’ll see you in a minute.”

“Okay.”

I ended the call and checked myself out in the mirror. My mascara looked more like warpaint. Waterproof, my butt. After cleaning myself up, I took a deep breath and put on a smile as I stepped out.

Cold metal bit into the flesh between my blouse and the waistband of my ankle jeans. “We’ll take this nice and slow.”

That voice. I jerked my head around. “Lorenzo?”

“Hello, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that!” I hissed.

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