Save the Date (37 page)

There was such a look of hurt on Alex’s face, she had to close her eyes. He cared, but it couldn’t be enough. Not this time. “God pulled me out of that. And for years I let Satan use it to keep me down. But I’m through being the girl who was left behind.”

“Luce.” He ran his hand down her arm. “I had no idea.”

She met his gaze, dared him to look away. “Do you love me?”

His eyebrows slammed together as he frowned. “I know last night was crazy. Maybe I didn’t make much sense,” he said. “After the election—”

“Don’t spin this, Congressman Sinclair.” The politeness dissolved from her tone. “What exactly is it you feel for me?”

“I . . .” He was caged. Trapped. They both knew it. “I think you’re an amazing person. I love spending time with you.”

So that was it. She was still just an expensive prop. Nothing more than a political chess piece and a fun friend. “You know, I thought becoming your fiancée would go down as the biggest mistake of my life.” The sanctuary walls closed in on her with each word. “But I seem to have topped that—by falling in love with you.”

“Lucy, I—”

“Don’t say it.” She jerked away from his reach, facing the altar. Retreating within. “Just tell me.” She wiped away tears, angry at herself that she couldn’t command them to stop. “Do you feel anything for me? Or am I strictly just a means to an end? Was this part of the plan? Make me fall for you so I’d play a more convincing fiancée?”

“I care about you.” He leaned forward, forcing her to look at him. “And there’s no reason why we shouldn’t continue seeing each other after the election. You’re an important part of my life.”

“How important?”

He said nothing.

“What’s going to happen on October fifteenth?”

Alex took a steadying breath. “We tell people we’re busy and need more time to plan the wedding. It doesn’t have to be a problem.”

“Oh, it’s a problem.” Her laugh was bitter. “Don’t you get it? I’m no better than all those stupid girls in
People
. I went and fell for you and thought I was different. Because that’s what unites all of us ladies, Alex. We all thought we were the exception.”

“You are.” His raised voice bounced off the cathedral ceiling. He stood and towered over her. “I have never let someone in the way I have you. You and I are good together—you can’t deny that. Are you just going to throw that away because I’m not ready to book the chapel?”

“And where exactly do you see us headed?”

“I still want us to be together. Why do we have to talk future right now? You don’t even
want
to be a politician’s wife.”

No, but she wanted to be Alex’s.

“Marriage isn’t in my plans,” he said, his frustration building. “I’ve been honest about that. And you also know politics is a team sport. Can you honestly tell me you’re up for a lifetime of black-tie dinners and seeing your picture in the press? Do you want to marry that?”

“You say you don’t know what’s going to happen to us after the election, but I do. Anyone who’s ever read one article on your personal life could guess this ending. You’ll keep me around a few weeks, but then when you’re all secure in Congress, you’ll look at me and try to remember why you’d needed me in the first place. You’ll have things to do and people to see. And I won’t fit into that agenda.”

“That’s real fair.”

“And as history repeats itself, you’ll grow bored, and you’ll kindly let me go. I’m sure you’ll be all charming about it—make me feel like it’s the best thing for me. That you’re doing me a favor.”

He didn’t even try to argue. His playbook was no secret.

“So you’re just going to walk away?” Anger thrummed in his voice. “Break the engagement?”

“I’ll honor our agreement. But on election night, I’m done. You can twist that story however you like for the press. And you can even keep your money. It turns out, I’m a little bit rich.” She slipped the diamond ring off her finger. It was one more lie she couldn’t stand to look at. “And you can keep this as well.”

He held it between two fingers, his eyes fierce. “Fine.” Lucy had cut his pride, hit him where no woman had dared. “Walk away. So I get my votes and you get what?”

“Hopefully,” she said, “what’s left of my dignity.”

“I’ve never lied to you about where we were headed.”

“No. But I’ve been lying to myself.” Her heart was a piece of glass, shattered in his warrior’s hands. “And this time, I’m not going to be the one left behind.”

Alone, Lucy joined the wedding party in the reception hall of the church. She had to pull it together, because this was Morgan’s day, and she didn’t want to ruin it.

Cake. She needed cake.

Lucy exchanged pleasantries with a few friends as she made her way to the table that held a giant cake in the shape of the Millennium Falcon, the aircraft Han Solo had used to storm the galaxy.

“Hello, Lucy.”

She slid her fork into fluffy icing and turned at the voice.

“Hello, Matt.”

She waited for the onslaught of feelings, the attack of memories. But it didn’t come.

“Nice wedding,” he said.

“Yes.” The cake tasted like dust in her mouth. She simply couldn’t eat. “I didn’t know you were here.” She’d had eyes for only one man in that chapel.

Dressed in a charcoal-gray suit, Matt presented a dashing picture. Yet her heart didn’t give the slightest flutter.

“I wondered if maybe you and I could meet sometime,” he said. “Talk.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

He took a step closer, and she inhaled his familiar cologne. “I can’t let this go,” he whispered roughly. “I know I hurt you. But I also know we belong together.”

She set her cake down, brushed some crumbs from her fingertips. “On paper, yes. We do. But in reality? Matt, you like me because I’m comfortable. Familiar. You were forced out of your routine in Dallas.” Lucy gave a small smile. “And for a long time I adored the thought of you—your stability. I loved knowing you’d go to work every day, keep a roof over my head, and return in time for dinner. I could trust your kindness. Your predictability.” How had she ever thought she could spend the rest of her life with Matt? “I loved you. But I loved your safety even more.”

His eyes pierced hers. “And Sinclair’s what you want?”

“Love is what I want.” Her ring finger looked empty on her hand. “And this time, I’m not settling.” She leaned on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. “And neither should you.”

Chapter Forty-one

A
lex sat in his office at the campaign headquarters and twirled a Montblanc in his fingers. He had given everyone the night off, and the place was empty.

Like him.

He threw his pen across the desk where it bounced off a phone, rolling off the edge and onto the floor.

I love you
.

Lucy’s words played on repeat in his brain. The image of her face when she’d said it—it wouldn’t leave him alone. The way he’d brushed her off. The things he couldn’t give. It wasn’t in the plan. Besides being the antidote to his reputation woes, Alex had picked her because she was safe. Someone he didn’t have to worry about falling for.

But then he’d gotten to know her. She had stood up to him. Made him laugh. She wasn’t impressed with his face, his physique, his Sinclair name, or his million-dollar passing arm. When Lucy looked at him, she saw the
real
him.

The last thing he wanted anyone to see.

The election was in two weeks. Alex didn’t know if Lucy would make good on her promise to stand by him, but he couldn’t imagine her not being there. He still needed her. She just didn’t need him—not with her money and her demands.

He looked at the latest poll numbers on his phone. His lead was small but steady. The thought of losing had Alex waking up in a cold sweat every night. This bid for Congress was all he had. He hadn’t even thought beyond that. If he didn’t win, he would be just another sad retired ballplayer. That stupid
Dancing with the Stars
would probably call. Alex didn’t
paso doble
for anyone. And what about ESPN? He didn’t want to sit next to Troy Aikman and talk about games he wasn’t playing and no longer cared about.

God, what am I supposed to do here?

His brother was gone. Now Lucy. Maybe even his career.

And just where did that leave him?

Lucy walked into Clare’s house and shut the door behind her. She would pack up her things and leave tomorrow, whether the apartment was ready or not. It was past time she got back to the real world.

“There you are!” Julian intercepted her in the hall. “Come, come.” With sweeping hands he beckoned. “Join us in the living room.”

She was too exhausted to protest, so she just followed doggedly behind.

“Where’ve you been?” Sanjay stood next to Larry, one of the original Hobbits, who was cutting into what looked like a wing of the wedding cake. “Chuck and Morgan gave us the leftover cake, so Julian and Clare invited us over.” He reached for a plate balanced on the Ming vase and grabbed her a fork.

“I’m not really hungry,” Lucy said.

“Did all that wedding stuff stress you out?” Julian sidestepped two more Hobbits, reeling her in for a side-hug. “Don’t worry. I’m going to help you out with your big day.” His face pulled into a pout. “Though with only three months left, if anyone has reason to stress, it’s your wedding coordinator. These things don’t come together overnight, you know.”

Clare walked into the room, in deep conversation with one of Sanjay’s newest recruits. “But I don’t understand why you’d
want
to teleport.” She took a bite of cake. “What if you zapped yourself to New York City and your cells got messed up and your nose was stuck to your—” Clare’s mouth clamped shut as she got one look at Lucy and lowered her fork. “My dear, your makeup is all melted and your hair— completely mussed! We’ve gone over this. See me in my office at once.” She charged out before Lucy could argue. Not that she felt like it.

With a resigned sigh, Lucy followed her down the hall and into the study. “I’m too tired for this right now. I know I totally messed up my updo but—”

“Enough!” Clare shut the door behind them and turned to face Lucy, arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t care about your appearance.”

Lucy blinked. “Do you have a fever?”

“Lucy, what in the
world
happened tonight?” Clare’s face softened, and it proved Lucy’s undoing. Tears sprang to the surface and flowed freely down her cheeks. “There, there.” Clare reached out her arms, and Lucy went right to them. “Tell me all about it.”

Heaving breaths kept Lucy from choking out the words.

“Did Alex hurt you?”

Lucy shook her head, then erased that answer with a nod.

“I can take care of that.” Her fingers caressed Lucy’s hair. “I know people.”

Lucy sniffed, wiped her nose, then raised her aching head. “I broke up with Alex.”

Her grandmother’s eyes widened. “Why?”

One more step into the abyss wouldn’t sink her any more than she already was. “Alex and I”—it shamed her to even put the thoughts to words—“we’ve been faking the engagement.”

Clare said nothing.

Maybe she didn’t understand. “We made a deal—I would pose as his wife-to-be until the election, and he would give me the funds for Saving Grace.” The woman was clearly in shock. Offended to the tips of her pedicured toes. Lucy spoke slower this time. “I’m not really engaged to Alex—we staged the whole thing.”

“Well, I know that.”

Now it was Lucy’s turn to go still. “What did you say?”

Clare
pffftd
and flopped her hand. “Please, I wasn’t born yesterday. I’ve been in this business a long time, and I’ve seen it all. I could smell the deceit like stale Chanel.”

“So . . . we haven’t been convincing?”

“On the contrary, you’ve done a wonderful job.” Her eyes shimmered with perception. “So good, you bought into it yourself, didn’t you? You’re in love with him.”

Lucy wanted to curl in bed, pull the covers over her head, and never leave. “Maybe.”

“And by maybe you mean—”

“That my heart stopped beating today, and I’m pretty sure it’s going to rot and decay right in my chest.” She was a rambling idiot. Nothing made sense right now. It was supposed to—she had done all the right things. Shaken off the lies and stepped into the woman God wanted her to be. And she just felt . . . empty.