Page 105 of Runaway Bride and Prejudice

“Um, she’s really fun?”

A real barrel of laughs.

“And nice.”

A good kisser.

“We had a good time.”

Oh, and we got married.

Don't worry, sir—it's in name only, and if I figure out the annulment stuff, not even that.

Soon, she’ll be nothing but a paperwork memory.

Coach was saying something else and I missed it.

“I’m sorry, sir?”

“I was just asking if you've seen her. She started work here today. I figured she might track you down.”

“I did see her. Yep.”

He waits for more, and I’m sweating profusely now, like I've caught a sudden fever or am standing in a humid jungle and not beside an ice rink.

“Good. I hope she had a great first day and everyone is nice. But nottoonice.” He laughs.

I fake a laugh, all the while wondering if I should try to secure witness protection for myself. Because I’m pretty sure Amelia and I weretoonice on our last night.

“Look—just don’t ever tell her I asked you to go with her,” Coach says. “I’m pretty sure she’d hate us both.”

She already hates one of us.

But I have no plans of telling her that or anything else. Other than what I need to get this marriage annulled once Summer can help me out with that.

IfSummer can help me out with that.

No, WHEN Summer can help me out with that.

I’m going to choose optimism.

Because I can’t stay married to a woman who ran away after waking with morning-after regrets. Even if divorce is the dirtiest of dirty words to me, so ... here we are.

“I promise, sir.”

“Good,” Coach says. “Now, let’s talk about why it looks like you forgot how to play hockey.”

CHAPTER 20

Amelia

My first dayis over and it didn’t kill me. I only saw Van once, managed to successfully dodge Parker and Summer’s questions about why things were so weird when Ididsee him, and I only cried in a back stairwell one time.

Okay, so Iwentto the stairwell twice, but the second time, I only breathed through it. No tears.

Now, I’m waiting in my tiny cubicle for the sounds of the building to quiet.

“You’ve got this,” I tell myself, looking at the empty desk. I really need to find some personal items. Because right now, it’s the perfect metaphor for my life. Stark. Barren. Empty.

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