Page 60 of The Puck Secret

I’m trapped, slowly suffocating under the pressure of what is expected of me, of what is demanded of me. Josh has been my anchor this last week, keeping me away from our parents and making excuses for why I’m not around. He has been over at the house every day, only slipping from my side to go to class, practice, and take multiple secret phone calls that I don’t have the energy to enquire about.

No, all my energy is needed here, on pretending I am excited to become Mrs Bradley Thorne. I’m smiling so hard it’s hurting my cheeks, and my fingers are going white between his grasp. The pain is a welcome reminder that I can still feel something, anything, and I nod frequently as the woman talks to make it look like I’m paying attention.

It’s all going relatively well until she starts talking about the fact that the engagement party and wedding are going to be so close together.

“There is so much to do, so much to plan, and with so little time,” she says, a tiny pair of pretentious glasses that she clearly doesn’t even need perched on the end of her nose. “Any reason for the rush, or are we harboring a secret love child?” she laughs at her own joke, as my entire body freezes at her casually tossed out humor.

Of course Brad quickly charms her with his sickly smile. “No, I haven’t had a chance to knock her up yet.” His thumb brushes the top of my hand as if this is some inside joke between us, but it’s that last word of his that trips me up.

Yet.

He hasn’t knocked me up yet, but he will. He is going to become my fiancé, and then eventually my husband. He will be the father of my children, and the man who comes home to me every day, even if he spent it like my father used to by fucking his secretary. The entire picture of my impending life steals the breath from my lungs.

I can’t breathe.

This is how it will be, him answering for me while I smile prettily and pliantly beside him. Forgetting my own passions and wants, and replacing them with his. And for what? To keep my father happy, to keep my place at FU, is that even worth it? Is it even what I want anymore?

I can’t breathe.

We will live together, his ring will be a shackle on my dainty finger, and my children will be his. Entrapped by him and this life forever.

I can’t breathe.

I abruptly stand, almost stumbling in the heels I knew I would have to wear to placate him, as the two of them snap their gaze towards me. “Excuse me for a moment,” I choke out on a labored breath. “I’m just going to use the restroom.” I don’t wait for a response from either of them, striding from the room on shaky legs as my breaths come quicker and quicker. I make it to a supply closet before I break down completely, gasping for air, trying to desperately fill my lungs.

I’m having a panic attack, something I have been prone to for years but they magically, dramatically increased when I finally moved out of my parents house for college. The irony of the connection of the two isn’t lost on me, yet still the attack on my body is so full on I can barely remain upright. My hands are trembling, red marks from how tight Brad held them still lingering, as I reach into my purse to find my phone. I don’t know why I do it, I’m not thinking straight clearly, but I bring his number up anyway, and click call before I can change my mind.

I need to talk to Nova, I need to hear his voice. I have to talk to him, to explain what happened, to tell him that this whole thing isn’t what he thinks. Just one call, just one explanation, and maybe this mountain of guilt that has been sitting on my chest since he walked away from me last week can lessen. It’s all too much, all of this here, and everything with him. I’m losing my mind and there is only one of them I can change for the better. Maybe I will be able to breathe again if I can just explain that I didn’t lie to him.

The phone rings, once, twice, three times, and then it cuts off, and my heart breaks all over again when I realize he has rejected my call, sending me straight to voicemail.

I’m done here.

The last words he spoke to me echo in my mind as I take a deep breath and say what I need to, what I should have said last week. Each word feeling like a release in my soul, allowing me to inhale with every one until my heart is no longer pounding inside my chest. When I end the call, I let my tears fall. This is it, this is goodbye. I allow myself a few more minutes of pain and regret, before I take another deep breath and find a bathroom to freshen up.

By the time I make it back to Brad and the party planner, they have picked out a color theme, flowers, and decorations, all of which I smile and nod at without even looking. My chest feels tight but I make it through the rest of the meeting, agreeing to meet with her again on the night of the party to help oversee everything. That is what my life will consist of going forward, a pretty planner with the purpose of pleasing my husband.Just like my mother.

We say our goodbyes, and as Brad leads me outside he curves his arm around my back, dropping it low so it covers the top of my ass. I have to hide my shiver, acting as if the November chill is responsible, and not just the feel of his skin on mine. But apparently I don’t pretend as well as I thought.

“You’ll have to do better than that next week, darling, especially when we will have an audience.” He leads me to where Julian is idling by the car waiting to take me home. “Maybe we should practice in private first,” he adds in a flirty tone, pulling my body against his, and gripping my ass fully.

Choking back a gag, I fist my hands in his shirt, taking the disgusting slam of his lips against my own. I allow his invasion for a couple of seconds before I push him off with a firm shove. “Ever heard of consent?” I ask, sarcastically, wiping his saliva from my mouth, as I ignore the pain of him erasing the last kiss I had with Nova.

Brad scoffs a laugh as I stride towards Julian, who promptly opens the door for me, keeping his gaze firmly on my date. “I won’t need consent when you become my wife,” Brad calls out to my back, and I watch the brow of my guard strain in fury.

Yeah, he’s a fucking pig I know. Lucky me.

“And people wonder why wives kill their husbands” I reply sweetly, keeping my forced smile in place, as I climb into the back seat of the car. Brad steps forward, but his response is cut off by Julian slamming the door and encasing me inside the car before he can say anything else.

There is a quick exchange of words between the two of them that causes my future fiancé to pale a little, but then he straightens his shoulders and says something that makes Julian laugh. No other words are shared as Julian opens his own door and climbs inside, locking them promptly, before quickly starting the engine and pulling out into the traffic.

“Everything okay?” I ask, leaning to catch his gaze in the mirror.

Julian’s eyes flick to mine for longer than they should considering he is driving, before he smiles softly. “It will be soon.” His tone is ominous, and I want to ask what he means by that, but he shifts his eyes back to the road and it makes me feel like I don’t want the answer.

Instead I focus on my phone, ignoring the stab of pain when I think about Nova rejecting my call, and searching for my brother’s name instead. I’m surprised to find I don’t have messages from him, he hasn’t left me alone all week, and when his phone goes straight to voicemail, the theme of the day apparently, my brow furrows in confusion.

“Have you spoken to my brother?” I break the silence, questioning Julian. “Do you know if he is waiting at the house?”

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