Page 89 of Perfectly Wedded

The man lifts an eyebrow. “Then why did Vale sign a new contract that doesn’t allow him to move, even though the NHL was interested in a deal?”

I frown. “He didn’t sign anything...” I begin, but the man wordlessly hands me his phone. My eyes fall on the screen, an article glaring back at me with the headline:Vale MacPherson Signs New Contract to Stay with the Crushers, Delays NHL Dreams.

My stomach plummets as I skim over the story. By asking for the no-movement clause, Vale gave up his best shot at the NHL—right when he was on the verge of making it. All because of me.

My whole body goes numb. Even if he feels bound to his promise, this is too much.I’m too much.What was I thinking, dragging Vale into my mess? My life has always been a train wreck, and he took it on willingly, thinking he could help. But someday, he’ll look at me the way my sister looks at our father—like I’m the one who messed up his life.

I drop his phone on the table. “This interview is over.”

When I wheel around to Jaz, her seat is empty. Gone before I can even explain.

If she doesn’t understand why I did this, I don’t know how I’ll live with myself.

There’s only one choice left. One way to stop everyone from getting hurt because of me.

THIRTY

Vale

There’s panic on Jaz’s face when she tracks me down during my photoshoot. She’s running across the lawn in her bridesmaid’s gown, her face flushed from the heat. “You need to come now.”

The deep crease in her brow tells me something bad has happened.

My stomach sinks. “Is Sloan okay? Did she faint?” I try to remember whether she had her medicine or drank any water today. I’ve been so busy, I didn’t even stop to check on how she was feeling.

“It’s not that,” Jaz says, shaking her head. “The interview didn’t go well. The journalist told her about your new contract. He claims you got married so she could get your insurance. You know how she is when she panics. You need to talk to her now before she gets in her head and makes a rash decision.”

I know exactly how Sloan is. When she gets scared, she runs. “I’ll find her.”

She’s told me this from the beginning, how everyone thinks she can’t stick with things, that it’s a character flaw, rather than a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I glance around, searching for any sign of where Sloan mighthave gone, before my gaze returns to Jaz. “Are you okay?” I ask, suddenly worried about how she’s taking this news.

“I’ll be fine. Just find Sloan.” She gives me a push toward the house.

I sprint through the yard in search of my bride. I’d assumed that when I told Sloan the truth, she’d forgive me for keeping it from her. I had good reason—I wanted to marry her first, so she’d know my commitment was real, without any second-guessing. But the plan was to tell her myself, not have her find out this way. If I’d told her before today, she would’ve tried to talk me out of sacrificing my shot at the NHL. But the strange thing is, I feel a sense of freedom I haven’t had before. I don’t have anything to prove anymore. If I play well for the Crushers, that’s enough for me—not who I play for.

I run into the house and search both floors. There’s no sign of Sloan anywhere.

That’s when I hear the front door shut.

“Sloan?” I call, racing down the stairs.

It’s Brax, coming to find me. “A neighbor just reported they saw a woman in a wedding dress hop into the limo you rented for the reception.”

“Call the driver,” I say. “Do you have his number?”

“That’s the problem,” Brax says. “The driver is out back. Sloan stole the limo.”

It’s not every day you ask the police to look for a bride driving a limo she stole from her own wedding. But right now, I’m desperate for help, worried Sloan will leave town before I get to her. Lucky for me, the local police must be having a slow day, because they jump at the chance to find a runaway bride. After I explain the situation to Brax, he rushes into action by calling the hockey team to track down Sloan. Since Jaz heard everythingfrom the interview, she briefed Brax on the rest. Which means I’m going to get an earful when I return.

After searching downtown Sully’s Beach, I try to call Sloan’s phone again. It goes straight to voice mail for the fifth time. She doesn’t want me to find her, even turning off her location service, which means I can’t track her.

This isn’t a good sign. If she’s not picking up, it means she’s in a full-blown doom spiral. She thinks she’s saving me from a career-altering decision and is convinced running away is the best option—even though it’s the absolute worst thing she could do.

Even if the press spins the story to make us look bad, we can prove them wrong by showing them the truth—that our relationship has always been about love, even if we did it all backward. But that’s only if I can reach Sloan in time. If I don’t, her disappearance will only confirm what they believe—that our Vegas wedding was a sham.

My phone rings, and the police station’s number appears on the screen. “Any news?”

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