Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“What?”
“Are you by yourself?” I clarify severely. I’m spiraling.
“Yeah...?”
I disengage the lock and slowly open the door far enough that I can peer out to see if she’s telling the truth. Once I confirm, I reach out and grab her by the elbow and drag her into the bathroom with me then lock the door again.
“What the—?”
“I can’t do it.” The words fall from my lips before I even have a chance to think them through. But once they’re out there, hovering between me and Lil, I don’t want to take them back. I want them here because they’re the only thing that’s felt real in a far too long time.
“What are you talking about?” Lillian’s green eyes widen into saucers. “You can’t do what?”
“This.” I can’t marry a man that could be capable of the horrible, awful things that are tucked inside that fucking envelope.
“This? As in you’re not happy with your makeup?”
I shake my head.
“Your hair?”
I shake my head again.
“Your dress?”
“This,” I repeat and vaguely wave a frustrated hand around. “All. Of. This.”
“Wait...” Lillian takes a hard swallow. “This, as in, the...wedding?”
“Yes,” I whisper, and she blinks so many times I swear I could hook her up to a generator and her eyelids could power the whole city.
“Norah,” she whispers back, her mind fully coming to terms with what I’m saying.
“There are, like, two hundred people out there, ready to watch you walk down the aisle in twenty minutes.”
“Three.”
“What?”
“Three hundred people, Lil.”
“Okay, let’s take a breath,” she says and places two gentle hands on my shoulders.
She’s trying to regroup me, but there’s no regrouping. I’m off the rails. I have a chest full of hives, for fudge sake. The only thing that will help me regroup is an escape car and a Xanax.
“I can see you’re freaking out a little, but let’s try to figure out what’s really happening before we do something rash.”
“Rash?” I retort and point to the angry welts on my chest. “Pretty sure we’ve already achieved that.” Every part of my body wants to tell Lil the truth about the envelope. The truth about Thomas and my mother. But I just can’t. Not right now.
Right now, I need to leave.
“Oh my,” Lillian mutters as she takes in the splotches that are now more distinct than my cleavage—and considering there’s a damn push-up bra sewn into my wedding gown, that’s saying a lot. “Maybe you just need a Benadryl?”
“Because why? I’m allergic to the groom?”
Lil cringes.
“Lil, I can’t marry him. I can’t.”
“Oh boy.”
It’s all she can say.
She stares at me for a long moment, her green eyes searching deep into mine as if they have the power to open up my head and sift through all of the things inside my brain.
“Lil, I can’t do it,” I tell her again, and she snaps out of her useless exploration.
“You’re serious.”
“As serious as these hives.”
“What...do you want to do?”
Tears prick my eyes. “I want to leave.”
Lillian stays quiet for the longest moment, and I have no idea what she’s thinking. A part of me wants her to ask me about the envelope that’s still in my hand, but another part of me, the most demanding part, just needs her to help me get the hell out of here.
Eventually, she releases my shoulders and starts pacing the marble floor of the bathroom.
“You do realize your mother would lose it if you ghosted on your wedding day.”
I nod. One tear falls from my lid and down my cheek. My mother will hate me. Just like she hates my sister, Josie.
“Thomas and his family will also be none too thrilled.”
I nod again. Two more tears.
“The tabloids will have a field day with this. You’ll probably be branded as some cruel witch who ruined Thomas King’s life.”
We both know the tabloids love Thomas King. I mean, he is the heir of the powerful King Family. They own more businesses than the investors on Shark Tank. Not to mention, he’s built the perfect persona of “handsome and charming,” and no one is none the wiser. If this wedding doesn’t happen, they’ll make sure they paint him as some kind of hero and me as the evil, bridal villain.
I know this. And yet, I don’t care. I don’t fucking care at all.
I cannot marry that man.
“I need to leave, Lil,” I say, my voice a harsh whisper. “Like, now. I need to leave now.”
“Alright,” she mutters and starts to pace the small space in the bathroom again, gearing herself up. “Alright, alright, shiiit. Alright.”
All I can do is stand there and watch my best friend try to carry around the massive suitcase of baggage I just put on her shoulders.
“Norah,” she says, her voice quiet but serious and breaking the tense silence. “I will always have your back no matter what. So, if you really mean this, if you’re really sure, then we need to find a way to get you out of here.”