Page 103 of Thrones We Steal

It’s perfect in every way.

“Thank you so much for all of this. I still can’t believe it.” I take one last bite of my cake and look around. The lights reflect in the water around us, creating an unearthly feeling. It’s like we’re in our own personal universe out here. “You truly thought of everything.”

Beck’s smile slips at my words as confusion crosses his face. “What do you mean?”

“This.” I motion around us. “The boat, the dinner, the privacy. It’s exactly what I needed. You know me well.”

His smile disappears completely, and only the confusion remains. “I didn’t set this up,” he says tightly. “I thought this was your way of showing you forgive me.”

“What? No, I didn’t do this.” I set down my fork and shake my head. “I received flowers and a card telling me a car would pick me up. I didn’t even know where I was going.”

“I got an email from you telling me to be on board at seven. You’re telling me you know nothing about that?”

A searing ache rips from my chest into my stomach. My first instinct was right.

There’s only one person in the world with the audacity to tell me what to wear on a date he wouldn’t even be on himself.

Even when he lets me go, I can’t escape him.

“No.” I swallow. “It wasn’t me.”

“Then who was it?”

I bite the side of my mouth, considering whether the truth is more dangerous than a lie. “It must have been Henry.”

“Why?” He spits out the word like it’s a bullet.

I shake my head slowly. “I don’t know.”

“You told me there is nothing going on between you two.” His voice has grown as hard and cold as steel.

“There isn’t. If there was, he’d be here instead of you.”

“Forgive me for not feeling reassured by that explanation.”

I stare at the bubbles in my champagne, winking at me, daring me to placate him with more excuses and explanations. But I hate lying.

Beck shifts in his chair, growing irritated and impatient. As my eyes slowly rise to meet his, realization steals over me the way the sun breaks the horizon at dawn.

I would rather spend the rest of my life pining for Henry and what we could have had, than married to a man I’m constantly comparing to him. I can’t imagine anything worse than a life of second-rate happiness and first-rate disappointment.

It will be the second gut-punch I deliver to him, but I owe him the truth. “I’m so sorry, Beck, but I can’t do this anymore.”

The annoyance drops from his face, replaced by pain. “Can’t do what?”

I lay my napkin onto the table and walk over to the railing, the words mired in my throat, refusing to come out. The boat sluices through the inky waters. A foaming spray trails in its wake. The evening is beautiful and perfect in every way but one.

The wrong man is sharing it with me.

I feel rather than hear Beck join me. He doesn’t come any closer, waiting for me to turn around and give him an answer, to assure him everything is fine between us. How can I do this to him? His only crime is falling in love with someone who doesn’t deserve him.

“I love you, but I’m not sure that’s enough anymore.” I take the coward’s way out and keep my face toward the sea. I can’t face him, can’t see the disappointment and sorrow etched in his eyes.

“Love isn’t enough? What else do you want?”

How can I explain to someone else what I don’t even understand myself?

“Can you not even look at me anymore?”

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