Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
This dress is a fuck-you. It’s also a gauntlet. If I can survive walking out in front of all those people showing my biggest, most horrific wounds, then I can survive being Finn’s wife. I can survive anything at that point.
Mom comes up behind me. She looks so old and thin. I don’t know how that happened. She smiles and adjusts my dress slightly, shaking her head as her eyes roam down my spine.
“You should wear that shawl, darling. Don’t look at me that way. You have a beautiful figure, but your skin just isn’t smooth anymore.”
My jaw tightens. Another wave of anger and nausea hits me. “You’re seriously talking about my back?”
“I’m looking out for you, darling. Let me get the shawl. You’re so pretty, but this—”
I can’t help it. I turn and face her, grabbing her hands tightly. I stare into her eyes. “You know how I got those scars, don’t you?”
She blinks in surprise. “Well, ah, sweetheart, I mean—”
“No, Mom. You know. You really know. You remember.”
“Sweetie, this is odd. Of course I remember.” Her smile is uncomfortable. “You had horrific acne. Just the worst.”
I bite back a sob. Desperation fills me. “You know that’s not true. Mom, you know how I got these scars. You know. You don’t have to say it, but please, admit that you know.”
She looks horribly uncomfortable. Her eyes dart around like she’s searching for an escape. Gently, she pulls her hands away. “The acne was so bad, darling, just so bad. We did everything we could—”
I turn away again. I bite my lower lip hard to stop myself from crying. God, what did I expect? All these years and she’s never once said a word about what happened. She never once admitted she knows. Why did I think she’d change now?
“I don’t want the shawl.”
“Are you sure? Darling, people might talk.”
“Let them. I don’t care.” Which is a lie. I care so much it burns. “Tell them I’m ready.”
She clears her throat. “Yes, but I don’t know—”
“Tell them.” I can’t look at her. Shame’s burning in my guts. This dress was such a bad idea. I thought I was strong. I wanted to show Finn I really don’t care.
But I was wrong. I care way too much.
Mom murmurs something and hurries out of the room. She must be happy to get away from me. That woman would rather cut her own throat than ever admit something bad happened in our perfect little family.
I sit in ugly numbness. People come and go. My brothers stopped by at one point, but they’re all too drunk to do much more than pat me on the back and tell me good luck. I’m relieved when they’re gone. My father shows up eventually and holds the door open.
“It’s time. Come on.”
I step out into the hall with him. I swallow against bile. He makes me slip my hand into his arm and pats my fingers lightly with his left palm. His eyes stare straight ahead. There’s no warmth in this man. There never was.
Ahead, I hear the sound of a crowd settling. It’s a low buzz of electricity. Dad leads me to the door as the wedding march begins, but he doesn’t walk forward. Instead, he stands, stone-faced.
“You will not embarrass me.” He speaks as if he’s talking to his own reflection. “You will go through with this. You will do as you’re told. And tomorrow, you’ll keep your head down. You will not ruin this alliance. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Dad.” I want to stand up to him. I want to tell him I hate him almost as much as Finn seems to. That warms me slightly, knowing my husband despises my family, even though I don’t know why.
“You’ll have that Whelan man’s children. You’ll raise them. You’ll do what’s right. Or else I will litter new scars along every inch of your flesh. Do you hear me, Caroline?”
I stiffen. He hasn’t threatened me that explicitly in a very long time. Not since I was a little girl. “Yes, Dad.”
“Good. Now fucking smile.” He looks at me. His lips are pulled back in a disgusting grin. “You’re getting married today.”
My legs are wooden as we walk out into the ballroom. I glide along beside my father, feeling like I’m on a conveyor belt. I’m a cow getting herded to slaughter, and I just hope the end is quick. The faster the better. Dad’s words are knives in my skull and I’m afraid all over again, terrified of him the way I was for most of my life and only just recently got over. But now it’s back, washing over me in waves.
I’m deposited in my position across from Finn, and I have to force myself to focus on him.
He’s wearing a black fitted suit. It’s clearly custom and very expensive. His muscular arms look incredible. His skin isn’t perfectly shaved, but I like that. His hair’s been freshly cut. He looks clean but not overly groomed. He looks so attractive it makes my heart stutter.