Page 35 of The Secret Mistletoe Promise
She swiped to FaceTime, hitting Edmund’s name before she could come up with an excuse not to. The noise burbled for only a few seconds before he appeared, blurry at first, the screen moving jerkily, until she could see him properly. The lens was below him, so she was treated to the firm jut of his chin and his eyes glaring down at her, and his fair, tufty hair.
‘Hey,’ she managed, her throat constricting.
‘Imogen, at last! What on earth are you wearing?’
She blinked, then saw from the tiny image of herself in the corner of the screen that she was still in Birdie’s green coat. ‘Oh. It’s G—’ She stopped herself just in time. ‘It belongs to my friend, who I’m staying with.’
‘Well, at least I know it’s not aguyfriend.’ Edmund smiled to show it was a joke, even though it came across as bitter. He did have a right to be, though.
‘Of course it’s not,’ she said. ‘It’s a good friend, who I knew would be fine with me turning up the way I did.’
‘Having run out on your life, you mean?’ Suddenly Edmund was gone, and Imogen could only see the ceiling sconce around the light fitting in his office. She heard footsteps, the door closing, then he was back.
‘I’m sorry, Ed. I couldn’t go through with it.’
His jaw tightened. ‘Do you have any idea what it’s cost me? I’m the butt of every joke, with friendsandcolleagues. Not to mention the stress of having to cancel the caterers and the band. Defer the honeymoon.’
‘You should have just let everyone have a party.’
‘Are you going to pay for it all, second time around?’
Imogen chewed the inside of her cheek.
Edmund’s gaze hardened. ‘There’s not going to be a second time, is there?’
Imogen kept her back straight, her shoulders down. ‘I can’t do it.’
‘You could if you wanted to.’
‘I don’t want to, then. And if you really think about it, you don’t either. I heard you and Dad, the day before. You were telling him that once we were married, a part of the family, your position at the firm would be secure. Dad said you were the son he’d always wanted, that it would make them so much stronger.’ She heard the emotion in her voice but couldn’t do anything about it. ‘You don’t wantme. You want the position, the status. I was just the best way for you to get it.’
‘That’s ludicrous,’ Edmund said, but some of the confidence had left his voice.
‘Itshouldbe ludicrous, but it’s the truth, isn’t it? And I knew it, really, even before you confirmed it. I had been worrying about it for weeks, everything to do with the wedding made me feel anxious, not excited, and then, when I heard you, I realized—’
‘You shouldn’t have been eavesdropping,’ Edmund said sharply.
‘I’m glad I did! Because this is the twenty-first century, and I don’t want a marriage of convenience. I convinced myself I loved you, and I know I shouldn’t have let it get all the way to the morning of our wedding, and you have a right to be mad at me for ever, but it’s still the right thing, us not getting married. I should have spoken to you, then we could have cancelled it the day before. Iamsorry, but—’
‘Imogen.’ He pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘You don’t cancel a wedding like that, with that sort of guest list.’
‘It shouldn’t matter whatsortof wedding it is, how many people are attending or how much it cost! The only thing that should matter is if the people getting married love each other, if they’re doing it for the right reasons.’
‘I can’t believe you’restillarguing, after all you’ve put me through.’
‘I’m not coming back to London yet.’ If she didn’t move the conversation forward then they would be stuck there, going around in a pitiful circle, for ever.
‘Of course you are.’ Edmund looked away, moving something on his desk.
‘I’m not. I’m staying here.’
‘That’s not acceptable.’
‘It is for me, and it’s my life. You don’t get a say any more.’
‘You can’t do this, Imogen. I’ve told everyone you were simply overwhelmed by the planning, that you needed a few weeks and we would reschedule for the New Year. I’ve kept the venue, the caterers, the florists on hold for us.’
‘You can un-hold them, then. I’m … not coming back until after Christmas.’ Her pulse picked up. Could she really do that?
