Through The Storm: Part 3
DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Pixelberry Studios, except characters unique to my story. Those belong to me. ;)
PAIRINGS: Riley (MC) x OC, Riley (MC) x Liam, Liam x Riley (MC) x OC, Olivia x Drake, Bertrand x Savannah, Maxwell x OC
SUMMARY: Riley Lawson returned to New York a broken version of herself after a failed whirlwind romance. Years later, she has put the past behind her and rebuilt herself into a successful event planner who is happily enjoying her fast-paced New York lifestyle. However, just because she’s put the past behind her, doesn’t mean it won’t come back to haunt her. When an unexpected letter turns up on her doorstep, she’s forced to face the people and feelings she ran away from all those years ago.
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06/09/2020 - Part 3 is up! I hope you enjoy this revitalized version. As a FYI, as I post a new part of the revamped version, I will be taking down the old chapter. This is just so that people won’t get confused between the revamped version and the original version.
PART 3 - Here We Go
Please Come. The words stared back at me as I read the tiny slip of paper over and over again. He wanted me to come back. Apparently, he also wanted me to email him. I smirked. He knew of my aversion to telephone conversations. He probably figured I’d be more willing to email him than to actually pick up the phone and call him. Reading his email address, I couldn’t help but giggle softly. He was still as childish as ever. Of course he would still have the same ridiculous email address. He’s Maxwell. All the anxiety and apprehension that had been troubling me seemed to fade away. Then again, when Maxwell was involved, it always seemed to fade away.
“So, who’s getting married?” Andy asked, interrupting me from my thoughts. She tried to lean over to get a better glimpse of the invitation in my hands.
“Maxwell’s brother, Bertrand.” I smiled, scanning over the beautiful calligraphy. “Bertrand Beaumont, Duke of Ramsford cordially invites you to the celebration of his marriage to Lady Savannah Walker at the Beaumont Estate on Saturday, May 5th. Formal attire required. ” I recited the perfectly proper wording off of the invitation. “I would expect no less of the Duke of Ramsford.” I snorted.
“It sounds so stuffy.” Andy crinkled her nose. “Are all of Cordonia’s people like that?”
“Well, if you met Bertrand, you’d understand,” I chuckled. “He’s all about all things prim, proper, and respectable. He’s a traditionalist through and through.”
“He sounds like a bore,” Andy said, shaking her head. “So, are all of them like that? That Maxwell guy you mentioned?” Andy pressed on.
I shook my head, thinking about Maxwell and Drake. “Not everyone.” I smirked. “The groom’s brother, Maxwell, he’s anything but boring. If anything, he keeps everyone on their toes with his crazy antics,” I laugh to myself thinking of his break-dance moves and the countless Beaumont bashes. “The bride’s brother, Drake, he’s as common as they come, and he is probably the most down to earth fellow in all of court. He really looked out for me while I was there. He was such a genuinely decent guy. Court is hard for commoners.”
I bit on my lower lip recalling all of the hardships that I had encountered at court. “Most nobles only care about titles and wealth. Drake had neither, so it made him an outsider.” I frowned a little. “Just like me.”
“Well, I’m happy you had someone who knew what you were going through while you were there. Court seems like a pretty lonely place.” Andy said decisively. She paused for a moment before continuing. “That being said, maybe you should think about going.”
My head snapped up. “What?”
Andy reasoned, “You know …time heals all wounds and all that jazz. It might be good for you to go back and get some closure.”
“I have closure,” I said in exasperation. “I just figured out how to move on with my life . . . I don’t need to go stirring things up again,” I said firmly.
“Hear me out for a second,” Andy said.
I suddenly couldn’t breathe again. I looked at Andy as I paced around the living room. I suddenly felt betrayed. I had just spilt my heart out to her . . . telling her how tough court had been . . . how broken I became . . . and after all that she still thought it was a good idea for me to go back there?
“They obviously want you to come back. You say you have closure, but what about them? Maybe they need closure, too. From the sounds of it, even though you keep saying this is all in your past, it’s still having a pretty big effect on you. I’ve never seen you like this. We’ve been roommates for over a year now, and you have been a pillar of strength. But Ri, I’m starting to see some cracks in that pillar,” she said softly.
”What are you talking about?” I questioned angrily.
“You get this invitation and suddenly all hell breaks loose. Sweetie, you’re a hot mess right now. And if you get like this over a simple wedding invitation, Lord only knows how you were when you first came back to New York.” Andy gently continued. “You are not doing okay, Ri. Something is obviously bothering you and I think you need to go back there and figure it out.”
I shook my head like a maniac. “No way,” I said as I quickened my pace walking around the living room. “Are you insane? I haven’t seen any of these people in two years. TWO YEARS. Plus, I left pretty much telling everyone not to talk to me ever again. I think my exact words were to forget I ever existed,” I cried as I started to wave my hands back and forth frantically.
“Riley,” Andy started to say.
“No. You don’t get to talk anymore. You need to listen.” I said firmly. “How am I supposed to go anyway? It’s all the way in Europe … in like three weeks! Not to mention there’s all these pre-wedding festivities listed here that request the pleasure of my attendance. It’s going to be galas and parties and rubbing elbows with all the people that tried to ruin me,” I rambled. “I just can’t jet off to Cordonia on a whim. I have a job. I have the Mitchell grand opening to worry about. Paul just got back from Boston, I doubt he’d even be able to be my plus one, and I’m certainly not going alone. I just can’t drop everything and pretend I don’t have responsibilities. I did that once before and it bit me in the ass.”
Andy sat on the couch staring up blankly at me. I couldn’t blame her. I had never flown off the handle like this before. I watched as she stood up and grabbed me by the shoulders, pulling me into a hug.
“Calm down, okay? I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Obviously, this place . . . these people did a number on you, and I was wrong to push. I know this is hard, and it’s probably something you never thought you’d have to deal with, but from everything you just said, you are clearly not over everything that went down way back when. Don’t you owe it to yourself to officially close this chapter of your life?”
I blinked rapidly, processing her words. “It has been closed for two years,” I whispered angrily. “What are you a psych major now?” I muttered. I closed my eyes, kicking myself for taking my frustrations out on Andy. I know she didn’t deserve it. She had only been trying to help.
“Andy, I’m sorry. I’ve just … lost my damn mind.” I grabbed the invitation and threw it on the coffee table, staring at it as if that alone would will it away somehow. “You’re right . . . I’ve worked so hard to forget about Cordonia and the people I met there, that I never really took the time to really sort everything out. But I’m in a good place now, and I’d hate for all the progress I’ve made in moving on to get thrown out the window,” I exhaled deeply.
“Well, what do you want to do?” Andy asked. “What does your gut say?”
“To throw that thing in the trash and forget it even got delivered.” I said firmly, even though I knew that was impossible. That invitation had seared itself into my brain. There was no way I could forget about it now.
Andy snorted, clearly thinking my plan was ridiculous.
“I told you, ignorance is bliss.” My phone dinged with a text message from Paul. I breathed a sigh of relief. “Look, I gotta go. Paul just got into a cab and he’s on his way to Russo’s.” I explained. “I love you for worrying about me, but I’m fine. Okay?”
She looked at me in disbelief.
“All right, I’m not fine, but I will be,” I said with certainty.
“Go touch up your make up,” Andy relented. “You’re a blubbering mess, and I don’t want you to not look good for your date with Paul,” she said. “Although, you could meet him dressed in a paper bag and he’d probably compliment your creativity,” she added with a little bit of an eye roll.
I couldn’t help but chuckle a little as I headed to the bathroom. My waterproof mascara had served its purpose, and I only had a few smudges of make up here and there. I rushed to clean myself up as quickly as I could. I didn’t want to keep Paul waiting for too long, especially after he travelled home early just to see me. As I rushed out the door, I could hear Andy yelling after me.
“Don’t forget to think about what I said!”
I couldn’t help but cringe. She was never going to shut up about that damn invitation.
Once on the street, I hit the pavement running as quickly as I could. The thing about New York was that everyone got everywhere by walking, catching the subway, or taking a cab. I was fortunate enough to live in a pretty central area that allowed me to have access to some great restaurants and a plethora of stores. Russo’s was only a few short blocks away. If I hauled ass, I’d get there in ten minutes.
As I walk-ran toward the restaurant, I couldn’t help but let Andy’s words eat away at me a bit. I should have been ecstatic about seeing Paul, but now, I had the burden of Andy’s words and the stupid invitation weighing heavily on my mind. Was Andy right? Should I make an effort to go? But then, what if he was there? Who was I kidding, of course he’d be there. It was impossible for him to not attend Bertrand and Savannah’s wedding. Could I handle seeing him face to face after all this time? Could I even pretend that what we had between each other meant nothing? I tried to push the thoughts aside as Russo’s came into view. I wasn’t going to worry about it anymore. I had made my decision – I wasn’t going to go. I had Paul to think about. And my job. I couldn’t just drop everything to go jet setting to the Mediterranean. New York was my life now., and Cordonia was just a really bad memory. The invitation was getting trashed as soon as I got home.
I entered the restaurant as I attempted to quickly smooth the wayward strands of hair sticking up from my fast-paced walk. I spotted Paul sitting in our booth. We had come to Russo’s on our first date, and instantly fell in love with everything about the little corner restaurant. Back then, the waiter was kind enough to seat us at the booth in the quietest area with the best view. In the dozens of times we had come back here since, Paul would request the same table each time. We liked to joke that we had exclusive rights to the table since we had probably sat there more than anyone else. I know it was silly, but Paul loved the sentimentality of it all, and I’ll admit, it held some pretty fond memories for me as well. It was where Paul had first started to piece the shattered parts of my heart back together.
My eyes met Paul as I approached closer to the booth. Paul, as always, was meticulously dressed. He was wearing a perfectly, tailored navy suit. His tie was a matching He had impeccable style. As he got up to greet me, he pulled a beautiful bouquet of wildflowers from behind his back. As if my heart could swoon any more. I smiled brightly and leaned in to kiss him softly on the cheek. I didn’t deserve him. He wrapped me in a warm embrace and I melted into him, letting the tension of the afternoon fade away.
“I’ve missed you.” He murmured in my ear. “Wildflowers for my wildflower,” he said as he handed me the gorgeous bouquet.
“You sir, are too much. You just get back from your business trip, and you’re bringing me flowers?” I shook my head smiling. “I’ve missed you too. I’m so sorry I’m late,” I apologized as I squeezed myself into the booth. “Andy and I got into a bit of a fight before I came here, and it just kind of set things back a bit,” I exhaled heavily.
“That doesn’t sound too promising. What happened?” He asked in concern.
I shrugged. “It’s not important. I mean, things aren’t exactly resolved, but they will be when I get home,” I waved him off. “We can talk about it later. Right now, I just want to spend time with you and eat some amazing Italian food.” I looked for the menu, but found that it wasn’t on the table. My eyes shot to Paul, “Did you order already?”
He nodded. “I just got you your usual. Although, I probably didn’t even have to order. Reggie knows our order by heart already.”
“True.” I smiled warmly at him. See? Perfect. He knew absolutely everything about me. “What did I do to deserve you?”
He grabbed my hands from across the table. “Oh, nothing special. You were just your endearing self.”
And just like that, all was right in the world again. I looked down at our joined hands and realized how happy I truly was. Why would I give all of this up for more heartbreak?
“So, how was Boston?” I asked, as I pulled a slice of bread from the basket.
“Terrible.” He growled. “I wish I never had see that city again. Well … not so much the city, just most of the people ithere. Plus, there have been so many headaches with the McCullough merger. It’s a nightmare. Truly. No one wants to budge. Looks like we’re going to have to meet a few more times before we come to even some semblance of a deal.”
“That’s too bad. Hopefully the merger resolves quickly so that you don’t have to take too many flights back to deal with things.” I could see the dark circles under his eyes and felt terrible. All of the traveling back and forth was taking a toll on him, and even though he would never admit it, I’m sure it would probably be easier to just stay in Boston until everything was resolved, but he flew back and forth so that he could spend time with me.
“One can only hope.” He agreed. “I’m probably going to fly out there at the end of the month again. He rubbed circles around my hand as he held it. “But anyway, enough about McCullough. I’ve got my best girl in front of me, and that’s all that matters now.” He looked at me longingly. “So ah … while we wait for our meals, I was hoping we could talk about something. If you recall during our earlier conversation, there’s been something on my mind and I just can’t wait to talk about it.”
I sat up a bit straighter in the booth. “Of course. What was it that you wanted to discuss? Is everything okay?”
“Yes, of course.” He smiled brightly. “Everything’s perfect. It’s just while I was in Boston I did some thinking. I missed you every day. The texts and Facetime sessions were great, but it wasn’t the same as having you by my side.” He reached up to stroke my cheek, and I felt myself instantly flush over his gentle caresses. “And every night I went to bed, I wished for you to be right there next to me, and then it had me thinking that maybe it’s time to take the next step.”
“The next step?” I looked at him a bit confused. “What next step?” I asked.
“Of our relationship.” Paul broadly smiled.
I licked my lips nervously. Next step? As in marriage? My eyes widened a bit, and I could feel my leg bouncing nervously under the table. Well, this escalated quickly. Marriage wasn’t even something I thought was on the table. At least not right now.
“Oh?” I asked, my voice a bit hoarse from being caught off guard with his suggestion. “But don’t you like where things are at right now? I mean, we’re pretty happy, right?”
“Well, of course.” Paul exclaimed. "Things are going well. Really well. I love you, Riley, and I know you aren’t ready to say it yet, and you don’t need to … but we’ve been together for eight months now, and I know that you’re it for me.”
I felt my mouth dry out. Oh crap, he IS talking about marriage. Oh my God. I felt the heat from my anxiety rising up my neck. I quickly let go of Paul’s hands and reached for my glass of water. I took a large gulp. “But we’ve only been together for eight months … how could you possibly know …” I trailed off, my face becoming hotter and hotter by the second. There was no way I was ready for marriage. Holy crap, I was so in like with Paul. A lot. I could even love him. Someday. Down the line. When my heart wasn’t damaged. He was funny and sweet and sensitive . . . but marriage?
“I’m not proposing or anything, Riley. I just think that we should start seriously thinking about moving in together.”
“Whew,” I exhaled a loud breath that I hadn’t realized I had been holding in. As much as I cared about Paul, and enjoyed our time together . . . I hadn’t given any thought to a long-term future with him. I loved spending time with him, and I loved our long conversations . . . but I didn’t know if I was IN love with him. At least not yet. And moving in with him? God, that’s like a major step toward lifelong commitment. Isn’t that the sort of thing you did after being together for a couple years? “Moving in together?” With everything that I had been dealt today, this was just the cherry on the sundae.
“Well, yeah. I’m not getting any younger Riley. I’m 39. I know I work a lot, and I’m on business trips more than I am at home, but I want a life with you.” He reached for my hands again, gently rubbing my fingers. I could feel my hands relax against his. “I think moving in together will give us a whole new perspective on our relationship – it’ll bring us closer together.”
I sighed deeply. “That’s a big step. A very big step.” I had missed him terribly while he was in Boston. I missed snuggling with him, and talking to him . . . but moving in together meant being with one another all the time. What if it ruined what we had?
“It is, but I think it’s the right one.” I could tell that Paul sensed my hesitation, so I tried smile a bit, but it probably came out as more of a grimace.
Paul frowned at me. “Is it because you haven’t said you love me yet? Is that why you’re holding back? Because I don’t care about that. I told you that I’m not in a rush for you to say it. I don’t know what happened before. I know you don’t like to talk about your past relationships, but I want you to know that I’m not like those other guys. I will wait for as long as it takes. I’m not going to give up on you. I’m not going to give up on us.”
My heart flip flopped once more, and I could feel my eyes water as he spoke. I will wait for as long as it takes. After everything that happened today, I found myself thinking about him once again. He had said those very same words to me two years ago, except, he didn’t really mean it. I was almost certain that Paul did.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Paul reached in his jacket pocket and handed me his handkerchief. “No tears. This is supposed to be something exciting.” He smiled. “I thought you’d be excited about it, too.”
I reached for his handkerchief gratefully and dabbed at my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Paul. I’m just overwhelmed,” I said between sniffles. “I’m not freaking out about the whole moving in together thing,” I paused. “Well, maybe I am just a little. I just . . . I’ve had a rough day,” I sighed.
He stood up and scooted into the same side of the booth with me. “The fight with Andy?” He asked in concern. “When I spoke with you this morning, you were having a great day off,” he added. “Everything okay at work?”
I squeezed my eyes shut and inhaled deeply. “It’s not work,” I paused once more. “The thing with Andy . . . it was a fight over a letter I got today in the mail from an old friend. I’ve been invited to a wedding.”
“And that’s what you’re freaking out about?” He said slowly, puzzled as to how that would make me so upset.
“In a way, yes.” I nodded. “Remember when we first started dating, I told you that I was still getting over something … well someone.” He nodded. “It was some sort of fling you had before moving back to New York right?”
I contemplated his choice of word. Fling. It was so much more than just a fling for me. It meant everything to me, but maybe that’s exactly how he saw it. A fling with an American who got swept up in the grand romantic notion of love. A fling. The word still stung though.
“Something like that,” I sighed, suddenly feeling very uneasy. “There’s a lot more to the story than I actually told you.” I cringed at the thought of having to relive everything that I had just told Andy just an hour ago. I cleared my throat and started to recollect everything – the moment I met him, the journey to Cordonia, falling in love with him, the heartbreak . . . all of it was finally laid out on the table for him to see – the good, the bad – the heartbreaking. All the secrets I harbored from him for the last eight months came spilling out. As I spoke, his eyes never left mine. I didn’t cry this time. Perhaps I was all cried out . . . or maybe just numb. He didn’t speak or interrupt or even ask questions. He just held my hand and squeezed when it seemed like I couldn’t get the right words out. I tried my best to keep a brave face so that he knew that I was fine. I wondered if he could see through the façade.
After I was finished, there was an uncomfortable silence that lingered between the two of us. I couldn’t tell if he was angry or upset or confused. He was just staring at his hands, seemingly processing everything I had just told him, until a soft chuckle escaped from his lips.
“Well, suddenly I feel very inadequate.” Paul deadpanned quietly.
“Huh?” I said in confusion.
“I mean, when your girlfriend tells you that she used to date a Prince … wait I’m sorry … a King … and almost married him, it kind of puts corporate lawyer on the lower end of the spectrum in the dating pool,” he snorted.
I looked at him, mouth agape. That wasn’t the reaction that I had anticipated. I had expected yelling, or worse, him breaking up with me. “What?” I asked again, still not comprehending how he could be so calm and relaxed about all of this.
“I mean it’s kind of hard to show up with flowers when you used to be with a guy that could have given you a whole kingdom.” He smirked a little. He was clearly joking, trying to make me feel better about everything.
I shook my head, lightly slapping him on the arm. “Not funny,” I murmured, even though I was having a hard time stifling my own laughter now.
“It was two years ago, and honestly, from what I can see, there’s no competition.” I said honestly. “It didn’t work out between me and him, and now that there’s been a lot of distance, I realize now that it probably never would have worked out between us. I always felt like I wasn’t enough for him.”
I looked down at the table remembering the engagement tour, how he proudly walked around with Madeline on his arm. I remembered the public interviews and newspaper articles about what a loving couple they were . . . while in the background, he was sneaking off to meet me on secret late night rendezvous. Just as Cordonia was my dirty little secret . . . I was his. It all felt so contrived. He wanted the best of both worlds. He kept promising me that things would work out . . . the truth would eventually come out. He kept asking me to be patient. For our sake. He kept telling me to be patient, to give it time. Then, suddenly time ran out.
Paul’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Hey . . . if he didn’t think you were enough for him, that’s his problem. Not yours. He’s the one that gave up the most amazing woman I have ever met. His loss, is most certainly my gain,” he assured me. I blushed and murmured a quiet thank you.
“So . . . you mentioned something about a wedding?” Paul said, quickly changing the subject.
“Yup.” I nodded. “Maxwell left me an email address to contact him at. I’m assuming to give him my RSVP. Andy thinks I should go.”
Paul was quiet for a second, mulling over my words. “Do you want to go?”
“No . . . for obvious reasons. I don’t really want to dredge everything back up,” I shrugged. “I know . . . I know maybe it will bring me closure,” I rolled my eyes.
“I wouldn’t say that,” he shook his head. “It might be nice of you to visit with the people you’re still friendly with,” he admitted. “But I’m not sure if it’s worth you getting hurt in the process,” he said honestly.
“Thank you,” I said. “That’s exactly what I was trying to explain to Andy,” I explained.
“Andy really wants you to go huh?” He reasoned. “That’s what’s making this harder on you.”
“Well, yeah.” I nodded. “You know how Andy is, she wiggled her way into my conscience and had me second guessing everything.” I sighed. “I just don’t want to see him.”
“Sounds like you have a lot of thinking to do.” Paul said simply.
I shook my head. “I made up my mind, I’m not gonna go. Anyway, it’s in like three weeks . . . and I’d have to be there for like two weeks,” I scoffed. “Totally not possible with the Mitchell event coming up,” I said.
“When is the wedding?” Paul asked.
“May 5th,” I replied.
“Well, I’d like to say that if you changed your mind I’d go with you, but I’m heading back to Boston at the end of this month, and I’d probably be stuck there well into the middle of May,” he said as he looked at his schedule on his phone.
“See? One more reason for me not to go,” I affirmed.
“You know I would go with you in a heartbeat, baby,” he said.
I nodded. “I know you would,” I said honestly. “God, why are we even still talking about this? I’m not going to go. It’s crazy that I even considered it. Why should I drop everything for a few weeks to go to a wedding for someone I haven’t even talked to in two years,” I said shaking my head. “I should listen to my gut. Maybe I’ll just send them like a nice punchbowl set or something . . .” I shrugged.
He nodded. “I support you in whatever decision you make, sweetheart.”
“Thank you,” I smiled earnestly. “I appreciate how much you care about me and want the best for me. I’m so lucky.”
“We’re both lucky,” he said. “Maybe I’m lucky enough that you’ll say you’ll move in with me?” He pressed. “Will you at least think about it? I know there’s a lot going on right now, but just think about it.”
I forced a smile. "Of course, I’ll think about it,” I squeezed his hands in encouragement. “I just have so much on my plate right now, and like you said, you’re going to be going back to Boston at the end of the month,” I reasoned.
“I was actually hoping to have you moved in before I left,” he said sheepishly.
“Wow . . . um . . . that’s really fast,” I said quickly. “I just . . . wow,” I said again. “There’s so many factors to consider . . . I mean, you want me to move into your apartment? I mean, babe, it’s amazing. The view is spectacular and there’s so much space. I can pretty much fit my whole apartment in your bedroom . . . but it’s also so far away from my office. The commute is going to kill me. Plus what about Andy?” I asked. “I can’t leave her high and dry without a roommate. How will she afford the rent? I’d be such a crappy friend if I just up and left her to fend for herself,” I exclaimed. I saw Paul’s face drop and zipped my lips. I was rambling. I squeezed his hands tightly. “I’m sorry. I’m not thinking clearly right now,” I shot him a half-smile. “I promise that I will give it some serious thought,” I assured him.
He tried his best to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course, that’s fair.” He smiled again, this time, it was a bit brighter. “Looks like the food’s coming.”
I took a deep breath, thankful for the distraction. At least the moving in conversation was put on hold for right now.
The rest of the dinner flew by without further mention of either of the bombshells of the night. We fell into a comfortable conversation about a few of the upcoming parties I was planning, as we finished our dinners. As we settled the bill, Paul led me out into the street, swept me into his arms, and placed a chaste kiss on my lips. I couldn’t help but smile as butterflies floated freely in my stomach.
“Raincheck on movie night?” he asked, looking back at me with tired eyes. “I didn’t get much sleep last night with with the excitement of coming back early,” he explained.
“Oh my gosh, don’t be silly. We can definitely do movie night next week,” I assured him. “You go home and get some rest. I’m sure all that travel is catching up with you.”
He placed a soft kiss on my head and squeezed me tightly. “Want to split a cab home though?” he asked.
“Nah, it’s such a beautiful evening, I think I’ll walk,” I motioned around me.
“Alright, beautiful.” He pulled me closer to him, tipping my chin up as he kissed me gently.
“Goodnight,” I murmured against his lips, falling into his embrace one more.
He softly ran his fingers through my hair. “Until next time, sweetheart,” he replied as he walked down the street to hail a cab home.
I spent the rest of the walk back to my apartment mulling over Paul’s words. Sounds like you have a lot of thinking to do. I started to have second thoughts about my decision. I mean, no one would really miss me if I didn’t go right? Then again, Maxwell went through all the trouble of tracking me down . . . shouldn’t I put all my fears and worries aside and do this for Bertrand? It’s only a couple of weeks. I could survive that surely? Maxwell and Bertrand were like the brothers I never had . . . and never really wanted, but that was beside the point. When they took me in, I suddenly had a family again. And for a while, it felt wonderful to belong somewhere. Should I go as a thank you? I mean, I was there when he reconnected with Savannah . . . I had helped him through the shock of finding her again and learning about Bartie. I’d watched as Bertrand came back to life. It’d be amazing to see them finally get their happily ever after.
And what of Maxwell? Sweet Maxwell who was hoping beyond hope that he’d be able to reach out to me and bring me back to them. That hope never faded after all. He apparently couldn’t … or wouldn’t move on. The invitation and email address made that clear. It would be wonderful to see Maxwell again. I actually kind of, sort of missed him. I feel bad about how things ended and how I treated him when I came back to New York. He didn’t deserve that.
But what if I went to Cordonia . . . would I be forced to see him? Them together? I don’t think I could stomach seeing Madeline’s conniving face. What if they had a family now? Could I pretend to be okay when the man who I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with had moved on?
What if I lost myself again? What if I got caught up in the whirlwind of court? I can’t go through another round of rumors and whispers from the other nobles. Was my scandal ever resolved? Did they ever get the truth out of Tariq? Or was I still the court slut who slept around to get ahead?
I’m doing it again. I’m spiraling and I need to stop. These unsavory thoughts were going to do me in. This just proves that I can’t go back there. I’ll end up breaking down. Maybe this time it will be worse.
When I got back to my apartment, I saw that the living room lights had been turned off, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I was not ready to go for round two with Andy tonight. It looked like Andy had called it quits for tonight and went to go hibernate in her bedroom. I threw my keys on the kitchen counter, and glanced at the coffee table. The invitation mocked me from where I had thrown it earlier. I ambled over to the table, picked up the invitation and tossed it into the kitchen trash. That was that. It was done. Now all I needed to do was email Maxwell with my regrets and ask where I can send a gift so that I could put this whole nightmare behind me.
I walked over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of wine, and poured myself a generous amount in my favorite glass. I plopped back onto the couch, pulled out my laptop and got to work. How hard could this be? Exchange a few niceties, thank him for thinking of me, and tell him I can’t make it. Easy peasy.
As I logged into my email account and clicked on the new message button, I found myself stuck. How do you start an email to someone you haven’t spoken to in two years? I took a sip of my wine pondering how I would start and what I would say, then began typing quickly.
Dear Maxwell, Hi, it’s been a while. Got the invite. I can’t make it. Would love to send a gift though.
I frowned. That was terrible. It sounded like I didn’t even care. I sighed, gulping down some of my wine and crossing my legs on the couch. I tried to type again.
Dear Maxwell, I’m so sorry that I haven’t kept in touch. Things were hard when I came back to New York, so I thought a clean break would have been better.
Oh my gosh, that’s totally off point. I paused, thinking again, pouring a bit more wine into my almost empty glass.
Dear Maxwell, How long has it been? Two years? Wow time sure flies.
Nope. Now I’m not even addressing the elephant in the room. I sighed, a bit stumped about what to say. I stared at the laptop’s screen, at a loss for words. This hadn’t seemed so hard in my head. I sighed again, and tried to type something else.
Dear Maxwell,
I got your invitation to Bertrand and Savannah’s wedding. First of all, I’m so happy for them. Happy for all of you. But I can’t come back. I’m so flattered that you thought to invite me after all this time, but my heart
I stopped typing, hit the delete button, and started again, drinking just a bit more wine than before.
Dear Maxwell,
I received a beautiful invitation in the mail announcing Bertrand and Savannah’s upcoming marriage. It will be a beautiful day . . . that I won’t be attending.
I crinkled my nose. That’s a bit too harsh. I stabbed the delete button once more, took another gulp of my wine and started again.
Dear Maxwell, House Beaumont must be knee deep in wedding planning, and I can only imagine how busy things must be for all of you. Thank you for thinking of me and wanting me to be a part of such a special occasion. I’ll admit that I was more than a little surprised when I saw the invitation. I am so happy that you thought to include me in their special day, but for reasons of which I’m sure you’re aware, I am unable to attend.
I read and reread the paragraph, and deleted it once again. God, why am I spazzing out about this? Why can’t I just say no, with regrets and be done with it?
As I went to pour myself another glass of wine, I realized that the bottle was now completely empty. In the course of the last hour, I had drained an entire bottle of wine by myself. I bit my lip. This wasn’t a job for wine anyway. I needed something harder. I stood up and headed over to the liquor cabinet, sifting through the various bottles until my hand landed on an unopened bottle of whiskey. I pulled the bottle down, grabbed a glass, and poured the amber liquid in generously. Whiskey certainly wouldn’t solve any of my problems, but I would happily indulge in something that might numb me for a while. As I sipped from the glass, I could already feel the smooth liquor working to calm my nerves. With the liquid courage entering my system, I started to type once more.
Dear Maxwell, Hey, it’s Riley. I know it’s been a while, but I am reaching out to you because I received your invitation to Bertrand and Savannah’s wedding. Let me first start off by saying that I am so happy for them! They truly deserve a happily ever after, and am so happy to hear that they are joining their lives together. That being said, I am unfortunately unable to attend. I run my own business now, and can’t really be away for an extended period of time. I hope you understand. Please let me know if they are registered anywhere as I would happy to send along a gift in celebration of their nuptials. Please send my regards to all of them, and I hope you are doing well. Sincerely, Riley
My eyes started to get heavy, probably from all the alcohol I had consumed. I pushed my laptop to the side, intending to send the message tomorrow morning after I had a chance to read through it once more. As I felt sleep begin to take me, I snuggled up closer into the couch as my eyes fell heavily closed.
