Page 73 of Tangled In Lies

It makes no sense, but I can’t deny that’s what it feels like.

He doesn’t sit but leans closer, with one hand on the table and the other on the back of the booth. “Hey, fiancée.”

Mason’s words pop back into my head.

I bet the kiss was perfect.

My gaze drops to Phoenix’s lips.

Because, yes, it was a perfect kiss. It was like that first breath you take after a summer rain, when the sun warms your face, and you close your eyes, or when you slip into your bed after you wash your sheets: utter bliss and pure perfection.

For years, I was lying awake in bed, wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

Now I know.

And part of me wishes I could forget about it again.

Because how am I ever going to handle that information?

Especially knowing my sister tasted those lips too, that she had all of him.

It’s a tidbit my brain forgets about on the regular.

That realization is like a cold shower to my mind, allowing me to break this weird connection between us. I pick up my drink and finish the rest of it.

“I’m taking you home.” Phoenix’s tone is clipped. “Let’s go.”

Home.

During my childhood, Connie was the only reason our mansion ever felt like a home to me. That was until she distanced herself from me in the months before her death. I knew something was up, but no matter what I tried, she wouldn’t confide in me.

Until that one day.

“Angie, Phoenix and I are going to get married.”

My hand goes to my chest, the phantom pain almost as potent as the day she told me the news. At first, I’d thought she was joking, but when she gave me that small, sad smile so similar to mine, I knew she was telling the truth.

They officially announced their engagement a week later, and my world was never the same. But she wasn’t the only one I felt betrayed by. Phoenix never promised me anything, he was never officially mine, but that made no difference to my shattered heart.

With that old hurt and betrayal still thrumming in my veins, I grab my purse and spit out a “Fine.”

I was hoping things would be different after this last week, but maybe the pain from the past is too strong that not even the happy nostalgia that continues to drag me into that old, warm cocoon is enough. Maybe that time of my life where my whole world was centered around Phoenix, my personal fantasy, where I would have given everything to beby his side for the rest of my life, will forever be just that: a fantasy.

Because he didn’t want me.

He made his choice, and I’m making mine.

I agreed to marry him for practical purposes. Maybe this week was to show us we can work side by side and be civil, but nothing beyond that.

I say my goodbyes to Mason and Ruby, who are eyeing me warily.

I can’t blame them. I’m giving myself whiplash.

Phoenix takes my hand, and after a quick glance at the healed skin on my palm, pulls me after him.

His skin is warm, his fingers firm against mine.

I stare at our intertwined hands, trying to keep from tripping over my feet.

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