Page 91 of Wedding Season
“Was this about Amber or about us?” he asked, unable to stop himself. “Was hurting her a way to wreck us before we even had a chance?”
“You believe I would do that?”
His heart felt like a lead weight inside his chest. “I don’t know what to believe at this point.”
“I should go. Before everyone comes back. The wreckage that seems to follow me everywhere feels like too much for you right now.”
She had no idea what he’d be willing to handle if given the chance. But he wasn’t going to beg.
He watched her slip out of the tent’s back flap and disappear, wondering if she was gone for the moment or for good.
He wanted to call her back and tell her that none of it mattered. She could destroy every good thing in his life and he’d still want her. He’d come back for more. But he didn’t. He let her go.
Heather rushed in, her face flushed and eyes glistening with excitement. “They loved it. And there’s no rain yet. We actually saw a rainbow above the stage. Like it was meant to be. It’s meant to be, Alex.”
She glanced around the empty tent. “Where is Mariella? What happened with Amber? Tell me it’s okay.”
“It will be okay,” he said, not wanting to upset the girl in this moment. They’d worked too hard.
He knew he should feel happy as he left the tent and climbed onto the stage. This moment was everything he’d wanted. Even Luann had sent a text earlier wishing him luck.
But it felt flat without Mariella next to him. He couldn’t imagine how anything would feel exciting again if she wasn’t a part of it.
He smiled and hugged the friends who’d helped him by modeling the debut collection. He shook the hands of his investors who were none the wiser about Amber’s absence. Drake Simpson showed up and happily posed for pictures with the women of Magnolia. It was publicity gold, and Alex couldn’t muster any excitement.
He put on his best professional demeanor and suffered through the next fifteen minutes of shaking hands and making plans for what would come next with the company. The clouds gathered again, and gratitude poured through him in an intensity that matched the deluge of rain pummeling down when the sky finally opened.
He’d gifted each woman the clothes she modeled as a way of saying thank-you, so most people had already left the square in advance of the impending storm. He ducked back into the tent, not ready to go home.
Leaving felt like a surrender. As if he were truly taking the first step in moving on when he hadn’t even told Mariella he loved her. Would that have made a difference?
If she’d felt confident in his devotion to her, would that have changed what she’d done? He sank onto the grass and lowered his head into his hands.
What happened next? He had no idea where to go from there. All he knew was that he couldn’t imagine anywhere that would feel like home without her.
A few minutes—or maybe it was a few hours later—two sets of rain boots appeared in his line of sight. Two of the boots were a classic navy hue and the other set a leopard-print pattern. He didn’t have to look up to know who they belonged to.
“Where is she?” Angi demanded, nudging his knee with her leopard-print toe.
“We’ve been to her house,” Emma added, her tone softer. “She’s not there.”
“I don’t know. She left after a failed attempt to derail the fashion show with a stupid prank gone horribly wrong. She didn’t even bother with an apology.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Emma said. “Josie told us how bad of shape Amber was in before the show. Why would Mariella do that to her?”
“Revenge?”
Angi let out a derisive sniff. “That doesn’t make sense either. Mariella’s pattern is hurting herself, not other people. Granted, you were caught in the cross fire of that meltdown at your wedding but it wasn’t premeditated.”
“And she’s in a better place,” Emma said as she crouched down in front of him. “This is her home. She doesn’t have to engage with somebody like Amber. She has us. Plus you and Heather. She’s part of this community. Why would she jeopardize that with some sort of childish prank?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, yanking on his hair in frustration. “The worst part is I don’t care. I love her anyway. I love her in spite of the fact that she did it and because she’s not perfect. Maybe that makes me a world-class fool.”
Emma patted his knee. “A fool for love is the best kind.”
“And our girl is worth it,” Angi added.
“I know that. I’m trying to figure out a way to convince her of it while ensuring she doesn’t blow up the whole town in the process.”
