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Authors: Beth Kendrick

BOOK: The Pre-Nup
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“Anytime, anywhere!” Mara waved her fist as Jen dragged her back into the waiting room. “Don’t worry, Ellie, I’ll avenge you!”

“Ladies, I’m going to have to ask you to calm down.” The nurse ushered them out through the huge double doors.

Mara was shaking with outrage. “But she—”

“I heard,” the nurse assured her, then turned to wave off the uniformed security guard who had approached with a walkie-talkie in his hand. “It’s okay. They’re on their way out. Just another wife looking for Dr. Locane.”

Ellie’s eyebrows snapped together. “
Another
one?”

“Oh yeah.” The nurse lowered her voice. “She’s got a thing for collecting married men.” She regarded Ellie with great sympathy. “It was your husband?”

Ellie nodded. “You say she does this a lot?”

The nurse exchanged a pointed look with the receptionist behind the admittance desk. “Honey, half the staff stopped bringing their husbands to the holiday parties because of her. Do you have kids?”

“A daughter. Three years old.”

“What a shame. But Locane’ll get bored and move on to her next victim. Don’t worry; he’ll come crawling back.”

“I don’t want him back,” Ellie said. “I’m done with him.”

But that was the problem with misbehaving men, Jen mused as she drove home from the hospital—they kept showing up, no matter how much you wanted to deny their existence. When she pulled up to her house, there was an unfamiliar sedan parked at the curb and an all too familiar figure waiting on her front step. She hesitated for several minutes before getting out of her car, then decided that there was no point in delaying the inevitable.

She strode toward her front door with her hands in her coat pockets and her head held high. “Why won’t you leave me alone?”

“We need to talk,” Patrick said.

“No, we don’t.” She turned her face into the cold wind sweeping down from the mountains. “I’m through with you. I thought I made that clear.”

She should walk into the house she’d shared with Eric and lock the door behind her and never again wonder about what might be waiting for her outside the big, empty fortress of her marriage. She should accept that if she couldn’t make it work with Eric, she couldn’t make it work with anyone, because her husband had loved her so much more than Patrick ever could.

But she just couldn’t bear to barricade herself anymore. So she looked into Patrick’s eyes and drank in the desire and approval she’d been craving.

“Meet me for dinner,” he urged. “Hear me out. That’s all I ask.”

“Okay. Fine. I give up.” Jen’s keys slipped out of her fingers and fell onto the thick woven welcome mat. “I’m listening.”

Mara
Chapter
23

 

M
arriage is sacred.

The words she’d screamed at Dr. Victoria Locane reverberated through Mara’s mind as she drove home from the emergency room. She’d been out of control, spitting mad, but her anger wasn’t all on Ellie’s behalf.

A lot of it was directed at herself.

When she lashed out at the notorious Vixen_MD, she’d been striking a blow against women who didn’t take commitment seriously. Women who couldn’t be trusted. Women, in other words, like herself.

Marriage is sacred.
She truly believed that. And that’s why, even though she was devastated that Josh had given up on her, she was also secretly relieved. Because now she didn’t have to be afraid she would let him down again.

The gorgeous vista outside her windshield was in complete contrast to her mood: The sun was shining, the palm trees were swaying in the breeze, and not a single cloud appeared on the open blue horizon. Her cell phone rang and she snatched it up, grateful for any distraction. “Hello?”

“Hi! This is Pam from the Happily Ever After bridal salon. I’m just calling to let you know that we’ve finished all the alterations on your gown and it looks fantastic!”

Mara paused. “Didn’t my wedding planner call you guys a few weeks ago?”

“Not that I know of. Anyway, it’s all steamed and ready to go. When would you like to come pick it up?”

“Well. About that…”

“We’re open this afternoon ’til five.”

Mara’s temples started to throb as if she’d just taken another golf ball to the head. “It’s already hemmed?”

“Let’s see…” Mara could hear papers shuffling on Pam’s end of the line. “The seamstress took in the waist, moved the back buttons, and shortened the hem.”

“So there’s no way I could, you know,
return
the dress?”

“Pardon?” Pam’s chirpy tone suddenly dropped about an octave. “I’m afraid not. This gown was custom sewn in London especially for you. Final sale. We’ll need the rest of your deposit as soon as possible.”

“I know, but…” Mara sighed. “The wedding’s off.”

“Oh, I am so sorry to hear that.” Pam allowed two seconds of respectful silence, then continued, “We accept Visa, MasterCard, and American Express.”

“Can’t you just hang on to it and see if anyone else might be interested? I’d like to recoup some of my costs if at all possible.”

“We’ll see you before five,” Pam said firmly. “Thank you for allowing us to help create the wedding of your dreams!”

         

 

“I’m here to see Pam, please.” Mara slunk into the bridal salon with the penitent posture of a bride gone bad. Swaths of white tulle and clusters of silk roses festooned every available surface, and sweeping violins played softly over the sound system.

“Pam’s with a client.” A short, eager-looking young woman stepped out from behind the decorative table that served as a counter for the cash register. “I’m Suki. Is there something I might be able to help you with?”

“I hope so. I ordered a wedding gown six months ago and Pam just called to tell me it was in, but—”

“Ooh! How exciting!” Suki squealed and clapped her hands. “What’s your name?”

“Mara Stroebel. But I don’t—”

“One second!” The clerk’s ponytail swished as she hurried into a back room. She emerged minutes later with a long, baby blue garment bag. “Let’s try it on and make sure it fits.”

Mara crossed her arms. “No need.”

“But you have to!” Suki insisted. “We should make sure it fits perfectly; it better, considering what it cost!”

“Here.” Mara shoved her credit card across the counter. “Would you just ring it up, please?”

Too late. Sukie unzipped the garment bag, revealing the elegant ivory silk georgette sheath that Mara had selected after trying on and rejecting countless other options. The fabric was unadorned but artfully draped to create a graceful silhouette.

“So chic,” Suki said, watching Mara’s expression change. “Let me open up a dressing room for you. Aren’t you dying to know how you’ll look on your wedding day?”

As soon as the saleswoman said this, Mara realized that she did indeed want to know. Trying on this gown would give her a tiny glimpse at what her future might have been like if she hadn’t forced Josh to give up on her. Trying on this gown would also tear the scab off wounds that were still raw and fresh. The smart thing to do would be to turn around and leave this shop posthaste.

Five minutes later, Suki was doing up the delicate row of buttons on the back of the gown and Mara was gazing at herself in the mirror. She had chosen this gown because, when she walked down the aisle toward Josh, she hadn’t wanted to look like an uptight lawyer, or a sweet little princess, or anything less than a—

“Grecian goddess,” Suki confirmed, kneeling down to smooth out the fabric at the bottom. “Wow. Your fiancé is a lucky guy.”

Mara stepped away from Suki’s ministering hands and gathered up her bag and change of clothes. “Can I please just pay now? I have to go.”

“Right now? But you’ll ruin the gown!”

“Oh, it’s already ruined.” Mara powered toward the cash register, credit card in hand. “And there’s not a seamstress alive that can fix it.”

It took her a five full minutes to summon the courage to knock at Josh’s apartment. She loitered in the hallway, plucking at the soft silk of the gown, until a pizza delivery boy appeared in the stairwell and gaped at her.

“What are you looking at?” Mara flushed and rapped her knuckles against the metal door.

Ten seconds later, she was staring at her former fiancé.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to get a restraining order,” Mara announced by way of greeting. She reached into her handbag and produced a small white box. “I just wanted to give you this, and then I’ll be on my way.”

Josh accepted the box but didn’t open it. “What are you wearing? And what happened to your face?”

“What do you mean?”

He pointed to her cheek. “You’re got a huge cut right there.”

“I do?” She raised her hand to her cheek and felt a long, thin ribbon of raised skin. She hadn’t even noticed the wound in the mirror at the bridal salon; she had only looked at the dress. “Vixen_MD must’ve gotten in one good scratch before I pinned her. She’s a feisty one.”

“You got in
another
catfight? Didn’t you learn anything from that brawl with Alex?”

“I’d hardly call that little dustup with Alex a brawl. Anyway, that wasn’t my fault; she forced my hand,” Mara said. “And the one this morning was for Ellie.”

“I’m not asking any more questions.” Josh shook his head and leaned against the door frame. “I don’t think I can handle the answers.”

“Probably wise.” Mara straightened her shoulders. “Anyway, I know we didn’t leave things on a very good note, so I wanted to apologize again for, um, slightly over-reacting in Vegas. That wasn’t my finest hour. Oh, and when I showed up at your office ranting and raving about how dare you let Alex crash on your couch? That wasn’t my finest hour, either. But you’ll be happy to hear that she’s found excellent living accommodations. And…”

“And?” he prompted.

“And I’m sure she’s a lovely person,” she muttered through clenched teeth.

His whole body relaxed when he smiled. “That’s quite a turnaround.”

“Yeah, well, I’m starting fresh.” She glanced down at her gown. “I’ll be incinerating this on my patio later, along with the veil and all the drafts of the pre-nup. A ceremonial bridal bonfire. I might even make s’mores.”

“Sounds fun.”

“You know it. So if you have any wedding paraphernalia you’d like to unload, you can pass it along now. Think of it as cleansing.”

“Cleansing,” he repeated.

“Closure. Whatever. I’m not a psychologist. All I know is, I don’t want to think about this wedding anymore. Ever. So here we go.” She threw out her arms and offered up her ensemble for inspection. “I’m in my dress, you got your watch,
voilà.
Closure.”

“This is a watch?” He opened the lid of the box to reveal the antique Swiss timepiece she’d bought from an estate jeweler. At the time, she’d imagined him passing it down to their future child.

“I was going to give it to you after we got married, but that’s never going to happen and you deserve to have it. Consider it a war medal.” She closed her eyes and took a slow, measured breath. “Closure.”

He waited for her to open her eyes, then asked, “Feel better?”

“A little bit.” She picked up her purse. “Anyway, I should be on my way. You know, places to go, lighter fluid to buy…”

“I’m surprised the home-owners’ association allows bonfires.”

“Oh, they don’t. But I’ll be putting the town house on the market next month, so let them cite me to their hearts’ content.”

“You’re moving?”

“That’s phase two of the cleansing process. Plus, I’m not impressed with the way the neighbors have been treating Ellie.”

“You’re serious about starting over.”

“Absolutely. It’s way past time.”

He stared at her in silence for a long moment, but all he said was, “Have a s’more for me.”

“I’ll do that.” Her whole body felt lighter as she started to walk away, as if the silk gown had evaporated into thin air.

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