Page 2 of Lost the Handle

She only grins, holding the bouquet of black roses in her hands. “Marrying the man I love.”

Jesus Christ, this woman. I look out to where I know her parents are sitting, hoping they can help, but no one is here. The church is empty.

What the hell?

I bring in my brows and meet her gaze once more. My heart slams into my ribs, and a ball of emotion threatens to choke me. “E? What is going on?”

“We’re getting married.”

She says the words with such conviction that my heart skips a beat. “What? No. Where is everyone? Where is Ava?”

Her eyes darken as she presses her lips into a thin line. “Who cares? It’s you and me. The way it’s supposed to be.”

She reaches for my hand, but I move away so she can’t grasp it. If she touches me, I’ll do anything she asks. I’ll throw every fucking thing away and marry her.

Fuck. I want to.

I want to choose Emery over and over.

For the rest of my existence.

“No, this isn’t right. What is happening? I’m supposed to be marrying Ava.”

That grin fills her face once more, the sneaky one that ties me all in knots. For one, I love how wicked she looks, and it excites me. I’m the only one who sees the true parts of Emery. All her secrets, her desires—her true self belongs to me. She always has, and she always will.

Or she would, if I weren’t marrying Ava.

Breathless, I say, “Please don’t tell me you killed her.”

She scoffs. “No, not today.” Her eyes dance with mine, promise and heat in her gaze. “I’m not worried about her. You’re mine, Quinn.”

“Em, no. I am marrying her.”

Her lips curve even more, and with a cheekiness only Emery can embody, she says, “I told you we’d see, Quinn Phillips Adler.” She steps closer, taking my tie in her hand and pulling me down to her. I get lost in her eyes as she moves her lips only a breath from mine. “You are mine, and you aren’t marrying anyone but me.”

Just as her lips capture mine, a ringing has the scene in front of me fading away like magic from a Harry Potter movie, and I sit up in a cold sweat. As I gasp for breath, I look around to find that I’m in my apartment, in my bed. The muted gray and blackof my room brings me back to reality, and I realize it was all a dream.

Fucking hell.

I cover my face with my hands as I draw in deep breaths, unsure what the fuck that dream was about. Problem is, I’ve been having the same one for the last week. I don’t know why. Or maybe I do.

It’s the guilt. I feel like I’m betraying Emery, but at the same time, she left me. She moved to California; she made a life for herself out there and left me behind. She wasn’t ready for us, as she said. She didn’t want to be tied down. She had goals, plans, and since I didn’t want to go forward with EMQUINNY, she left me behind.

That’s fine.

I’m moving on.

I have to.

I have no choice.

I have my own goals, my own plans to ultimately make my family proud.

But fuck if I don’t miss her.

I miss her all the time, if I’m honest with myself. Emery is not only the love of my life, but she is my best friend.

Or was.

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