Page 21 of Bitter Arrangement

“You want to switch?” I ask lightly, trying to smile and sound like I’m not breaking to pieces inside.

Cass doesn’t smile back. She only hugs me tighter. “You’re going to be okay.”

If she knew as much about my future husband as I do, I’m pretty sure she’d be planning my escape right now.

Which begs the question: why aren’t I running away?

I could probably pull it off. Dangle out the back window, drop to the street, and just start walking until my feet feel like they’re going to fall off. Except if I do that, then I’ll be cutting all ties with my family. No more brother, no more Cass, no more cousins and uncles. No place in the world.

I’d be cast adrift on an endless sea of shit.

And who’s to say anywhere’s better than being here right now?

“Think they’d still make me go through with it if I started puking?” I ask her, looking at myself in the mirror. “Because seriously, this dress is making me feel pretty ill.”

“Pretty sure they’d still roll you out there and make you say the words, and your first kiss with your new husband will taste awful.” She makes a face. “That’s not how you want to set the tone.”

I groan, covering my face with my hands. “Oh my god. Am I really going to have to kiss him?”

Because I want to. Just not in front of the entire family.

“I’m not sure how you’d avoid it.”

“I could dodge and weave.”

“Good idea, make him work for it.”

“He’d probably just end up bashing his face into mine and giving me a black eye.”

“Imagine how the photos will look with a bloody nose.”

I sigh dramatically. “Might be worth it.”

She hugs me again. I really want to keep making jokes about this situation, but suddenly nothing feels all that funny.

The wedding is happening. It’s really happening. And I’m going to walk down the aisle with that stalker freak.

There’s a knock at the door. Cass hesitates, but she peels herself away and goes to answer. I can tell by the way her spine stiffens who it is, even before my father speaks.

“Hello, Cassidy. May I have a moment with my daughter?”

“Of course, Mr. McGrath. You’re looking very dapper.”

“Thank you.” He doesn’t smile as she slips out of the room and shuts the door behind her.

My father gives me a hard look. He doesn’t move to give me a hug, doesn’t smile, doesn’t show sympathy. He only tilts his head to the side and pinches his lips together as if he were studying an unruly child.

“You aren’t going to tell me how beautiful I am on my wedding day, Daddy?” I give him my best smile and spin my dress.

“Cut the shit, Riley.” His tone is sharp. He’s clearly not in the mood for my games. And frankly, I’m not either, but fuck him for acting like this all the time. “I want to make sure you’re not going to cause trouble.”

“It’s my wedding day,” I say, struggling to keep the malice from my tone. “Why would the blushing bride cause trouble?”

He steps closer. His jaw flexes with frustration. All these years, my father never once hit me, not even at his most angry. He’s said plenty of nasty things—but he never touched me.

Now, for the first time ever, I wonder if he’s finally going to do it.

And a sick part of me wants him to.

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