Page 82 of Resisting the Billionaire

Mackenzie

Istare at my reflection in the tiny bathroom at work, my makeup barely hiding the dark circles under my eyes. It was a sleepless night, Gabriel’s hurt fresh in my mind every time I tried to drift off.

He said he would call off the wedding himself. So he can be with me. Forgoing his money, his family. Everything he’s ever known.

For me.

I’m sure as hell not worthy of that kind of loyalty. I can’t disrupt his whole life like that. What if he came to resent me for it? Or things don’t work out? He’d be ruined because of me.

I can’t do that to him. I won’t.

And besides, it would set me back so far too. Everything I’ve worked for gone if his father found out. There’s no doubt in my mind he’d be vindictive just for the pure pleasure of it.

No, I made the right choice. The rational one.

It was the only thing I could do.

So why does it seem like a part of me has died? Some essential space inside shriveled up, dead and rotting, slowly infecting everything else.

Jesus Christ, dramatic much?

Still, I can’t help the tears that slip down my cheeks, the pain fresh even a day later. I told myself I’d be under control by now, ready to get back at it. I’d been too numb yesterday to be of much use to anyone. Thank God I at least didn’t have to meet with any clients.

But today, I do. I have an initial consultation with that couple that emailed a few days ago about their wedding. And they should be here in about thirty minutes. Just enough time for the redness to fade from my eyes hopefully. The last thing anyone wants is a depressed wedding planner.

There’s a gentle knock on the door and then Diana’s tentative voice. “Are you okay in there?”

What, could she hear me sniffling or something? Or sense the intense melancholy seeping out from under the bathroom door?

My first instinct is to frantically wipe it all away, any trace of sadness, any proof that anything is wrong. I’ve been so used to go, go, going non-stop, hustling, not giving myself a chance to breathe, to feel.

And now, to grieve.

For what was, what could have been. A connection with someone I never expected. Didn’t ask for but happened all the same. The pull between us was too strong.

I open the door and fall into Diana’s arms, her gasp of surprise soon swallowed as she soothes a palm down my back. “Mackenzie, what is it?”

“I fell in love,” I murmur, wishing she was someone else I could cling to. A certain man with broad shoulders and dark hair that curls right at the nape of his neck. Who makes me feel both excited and safe, tormenting me with pleasure and soothing my soul.

Will our night together one day fade to memory, the remembrance of our ill-fated relationship merely something to occasionally recall with fondness? Or will it continue to haunt me, unable to move past the wanting I have for him, the love?

“What’re you talking about?” she asks, a deep wrinkle forming between her brows. “Who are you in love with? When did you even meet someone? You’re always here working.”

“I-” How can I admit it to her? Especially after she was so apologetic.“Gabriel and his fiancee have an arranged marriage that neither of them wants,” I blurt out. “But you can’t tell anyone. I signed an NDA.”

“Okay…” she says slowly, staring at me like I’ve got three heads. “But what does that have to do with…” She steps away, clapping a palm over her mouth. “You lied to me.”

“No, no.” I reach out, grasping her free hand. “We tried to fight it, I promise. We were so good. But then Serena called off the wedding two nights ago and I… I slept with him.”

“You slept with the groom of the biggest wedding you’ve ever landed?” If there was a picture of shock in the dictionary, it would be her face at this exact moment.

Oh God, if anyone’s out in the shop overhearing us, what must they be thinking?

“He was unengaged. But now it’s back on. I told him I couldn’t see him anymore, even after he offered to call off the whole thing and I…” I stare at her, her lips set in a mutinous line. “I’m heartbroken. Can you just be my friend and hug me?”

She rolls her eyes and opens her arms again. “Come here,” she grumbles.

I hug her tightly, relieved she doesn’t hate me at least.

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