Page 87 of Implode

My mind wanders to how Tara was let into my office. It would make sense that Brenna allowed her access to that floor. As my assistant, she definitely has special privileges.

Dammit.

But why would she risk the chance of experiencing the repercussions from her betrayal—unless it was for love?

Was Brenna trying to get hired at HH just to serve as an instrument for Eugene to execute his rage for getting fired?

Opening up the closet in the bathroom, I find my bottle of ibuprofen and toss back three. I guzzle some water from the tap just to get the pills down. The headache forming in the back of my head is already moving toward my temple.

When the pain has seemed to settle, I finalize the arrangement for my wedding gift to Graham and Angie. I decided that for someone who really has everything—or can buy anything—that the best gift to give is a legacy rather than a trinket or houseware appliance. Thus, I’ve created a scholarship fund for students who lost their mothers to cancer, in honor of Angie’s mom who passed away when she was just a young girl. I have hired a banker and manager to handle the funds and a committee to handle the entries they will receive each spring for potential students wanting to enter college. I hope that Angie will be able to appreciate the memory of her mom and the opportunity to help other students get through a time in their life that is a huge milestone.

I hit up my home gym and punch the hell out of my weighted bag, growing fatigued faster than normal even with my headache gone. After my shower, I do some work from my office and end up crashing into bed at the earliest time that I can ever remember.

23

CLAIRE

When the limo arrives at the curb outside of my apartment building, I swallow the knot in my throat and tell myself that I can get through the next few days unscathed. I just need to keep any focus off myself and put it on the bride-to-be, who cannot look any happier than when I see her as I enter the car.

“You look incredible,” she says cheerfully, her eyes full of love and admiration. “You seriously can wear any color.”

The one thing about being around Angie is that she makes you feel good, and it goes way beyond the surface level. She gives me hope for a brighter future because I see how she has turned her life around, despite getting knocked on her ass repeatedly. Therapy has done wonders for her addiction and her ability to cope with stress. Her strength radiates with how she talks to people and builds them up. Once Plus None gets some traction, I can see her volunteering at a clinic to help with group therapy sessions. She is a giver at heart.

I slide into the leather seat beside Nic and smooth down my long emerald-green maxi dress. It is made of a stretchy material and designed to be fitted around my chest and loose around my ribcage and down. Just a few of us in this vehicle know of the truth I am hiding underneath the cottony fabric, but after this weekend, the whole world will eventually know.

Graham pops a bottle of champagne, and I hold my breath as he passes around flutes.

“None for me,” I say meekly. “Still watching everything I eat until after this wedding.”

No one gives me a hard time. I guess the only person other than Collins—who is behind the wheel—who doesn’t know I’m pregnant is Graham. With a history of being a finicky eater, no one should be surprised that I am turning down the empty calories.

“I can’t believe I am going to be yours in a couple of days,” Angie says to Graham, snuggling in closer to his side.

“Sweetheart, you have been mine since I first saw you out by that pool.”

I melt over their epic love story and feel myself blushing from being a witness to their cuteness. Their love is so pure that anyone who is part of their world would easily be able to find hope in the possibility of finding it themselves. I thought I had it with Nic, but in order for things to work, it has to be mutual. With the addition of the baby, things are complicated. Maybe his love is dependent on the baby being his. We haven’t had a real chance to chat about it, and using avoidance seems to be the best coping mechanism until we get through this weekend.

I am watching the scenery pass by out the window when I feel a gentle hand on top of mine. I look down and see Nic’s. When my eyes meet his, I am shocked by his PDA in front of his brother, but when I glance over at Graham, he is consumed with all things Angie. Can that man be any more smitten?

“Here’s some ginger ale,” he says, handing me a glass with his other hand. He pulls the one that is on top of mine away, and I instantly miss the physical touch, although it is the epitome of innocence and friendship.

I accept the drink and take my first sip. “Thank you.”

“You’re not getting motion sick, are you?”

I shake my head. “I’m good actually.”

He gives me a weak smile, and my insides twist at how platonic his expression is. I don’t know what I am to him anymore, but I know that things are different and will never be the same. While I can’t see into the future, it is at this moment that I know I will regret ever getting involved with Nic if things never work out between us. I can’t bejustfriendswith him. I can’t even be in his presence without comparing what we were to what we are now, and the difference is enough to make me nauseous.

“That’s good.”

I turn my attention back to him. “Hmm?”

He gives me a lopsided smile. “It’s good that you aren’t sick,” he explains.

“Oh…thanks.”

“You look exquisite.”

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