Page 40 of Tangled in Vows

In my head, the conversation continues.We’re one messed-up disarray of broken promises and bleeding hearts, and I’m not sure we’ll ever be able to find our way back to who we used to be to each other.

But I don’t want to say any of these words out loud. I don’t want to talk about them at all. I don’t want to talk about my past.

I don’t want Evie’s pity, which I’m sure is exactly what I’d be getting if I told her what happened between Holden and me or in my aunt’s community I ran away from. And I’d hate it.

Yes, I want an explanation from Holden, to know if Tom was telling the truth about Holden having some kind of family emergency, so I can get some semblance of closure. But then, I want to move on and focus on the future. On my career. My friends. I must also prepare myself for a life without Holden once this sham is over in six months.

Enough of those Debbie Downer thoughts. We’re here to forget, not to remember. To have fun.

So, I turn off my worries for the following few songs and dance with Evie. We laugh and have another drink until we head to the table for a much-needed glass of water. Before we get there, Evie excuses herself to go to the bathroom with Phoenix right on her heels.

I barrel forward, stopping short when I notice it’s not just Holden at the table but also a woman. A beautiful woman who is touching Holden’s arm and pressing her breasts against his side. She’s bouncing up and down as he smiles at her, and the adoration in her eyes could probably be seen from space.

Who the hell does she think she is?

A burning sensation in my chest halts my breath, and I feel the inexplicable need to yank this woman away from Holden. Doesn’t she know he’s married?

How is she supposed to know? He isn’t wearing a ring.

Shit.

Why did no one think about rings?

Even in my slightly intoxicated state, I realize how much of an oversight that is.

But ring or not, he’s still yours, and that lady needs to get her hands off your husband.

Once I’m just a few feet away, I say, “Hey, babe. You owe me a dance.”

Both of them and several others turn to stare at me. Did I just say that louder than I thought I did?

Crap. We need some good photos, but I wasn’t planning for every clubgoer to post about it on social media either.

Holden tilts his head to study me, pressing his lips together at whatever he sees on my face.

Why does he seem so happy?

Unable to take his intrusive gaze any longer, I look away. And straight at the woman. She’s even more striking up close, with her purple hair accentuating her green eyes, her delicate nose ring, and elegant tattoos decorating her arms.

A much better fit for Holden.

The unwanted thought slithers through my hazy brain.

It doesn’t matter.

What does matter is everyone can witness her clinging to his arm,myhusband’s arm.

Holden clears his throat. “Olivia, this is Josephine. Jo, this is Olivia.”

Since we have eyes on us, I lift my hand in a small wave, trying to stay as courteous as possible, even though my hands are itching to pull her fingers off Holden. “Hey, nice to meet you.” She just continues to stare at me, so naturally, words continue to jump out of my mouth, “So, how exactly do you know my husband?”

Holden makes a sound that’s half cough, half choke. But my gaze stays on the woman. Jo. She’s still gaping at me, her mouth opening and closing repeatedly.

“Hurricane, stay right here. I’ll be right back.” Holden shifts Jo around until his arm is around her. “Jo, say bye, Olivia.”

The woman’s mouth moves, but whatever she mumbles is too low for me to hear.

They walk away, leaving me standing there wholly ruffled and slightly humiliated too. Holden walks her to the bar at the far end, handing her off to a tall, dark-haired woman. She stretches up to kiss his cheek and laughs at something he says. Is she another lover? Are these two the reason he wanted to come here tonight without me?

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