Page 68 of Kiss the Bride

“Ready?” I ask, rushing to open the door. Her eyes don’t find mine. A brief nod before the woman I love strides through to the arms of the man she almost married.

Fuck.

The restaurant is empty, but one man is leaning against the bar, legs shoulder-width apart and arms crossed over his chest. He’s upped his game, wearing casual beige trousers, and crisp white shirt, and brown hair slicked back as if he’s ready for a photoshoot. I can see why Olivia had been attracted to him. But from what I’ve gleaned from our conversations, their relationship only looked perfect from the outside. He was controlling and disrespected her intellect. He wanted a wife who came with a trust fund, not a woman who could forge her own future.

Mitch and I were best friends—brothers. We played against and with each other on the rugby field, and sparred in the boxing ring. Now, he’s glowering at me as if I stole his birthright. I didn’t. I trusted him with the woman I loved, and he threw it away.

Olivia’s steps falter as she sees him, and my heart clenches in fear of what this will do to her recovery. Instinctively, I reach for her hand, but she pulls away, her body tense. Her eyes lock onto Mitch’s, and I see a flicker of something—anger, hurt, maybe even a tiny bit of longing. It kills me to see it.

“Liv,” Mitch says, his voice dripping with false sincerity. “I came to apologize. To make things right.”

I want to punch him. To wipe that smug look off his face for using my name for her. But I can’t. Not yet.

Olivia stands there, silent, her hands clenched into fists. I can see the battle raging inside her. The betrayal, the anger, and the tiny sliver of doubt. I step closer, not touching her, but close enough for her to feel my presence. To remember I’m here. I’ve always been here.

“Mitch, there’s nothing to make right,” she finally says, her voice steady but strained. “You betrayed me. You lied. Repeatedly.”

“Olivia, please. We had something real. Don’t throw it away because of a mistake.”

“A mistake?” Her voice rises, and for the first time, I see the fire in her eyes. “You slept with my bridesmaid, Mitch. That’s not a mistake. That’s a choice.”

His face pales, and for a moment, he looks genuinely remorseful. But I know better. I can see the manipulation behind his eyes.

“Liv, let’s go,” I say softly, trying to guide her away.

But she doesn’t move. She takes a deep breath and steps closer to Mitch, her voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. “I’m done with you, Mitch. I’m done with your lies, your control, your games. I deserve better. I deserve someone who loves me, who respects me. And that’s not you.”

The tropical air feels thick and oppressive as we stand in the bar, the soft hum of the ceiling fans doing little to alleviatethe tension. Mitch’s eyes are locked on Olivia, his expression pleading.

“Olivia, I’m so sorry,” he says, taking a step closer. “Three years. We’ve had three years together. Don’t you think we deserve a chance to talk? Don’t you think we deserve a chance to decide whether you want to throw everything we had away because I made a stupid mistake?”

I can’t believe she’s falling for this shit. I want to punch him and send him flying across the hotel foyer, but this is Olivia’s life and her choice. She once loved him. She was going to marry him. She deserves closure, even though watching the way he looks at her makes me want to punch him into next week.

“Olivia, please.” He steps closer and I fume. “Five minutes. You owe me five minutes.”

Wordlessly, she finally pushes him away and leads us to a round table outside. I don’t wait to be invited, taking up position to her right and across from my former friend. If only he could feel the depth of my wrath, he would wither like snow in the summer sun. I trusted him with the love of my life, and he betrayed her.

“So, don’t take this the wrong way, mate,” he stresses the last word for my benefit. “Or do, doesn’t matter to me.”

“Spit it out.” My encouragement holds no warmth, only a challenge better held late at night in a deserted car park. Him, me, and no rules.

“This lady and I have a lot to talk about and I’d prefer we do it in private. I think the very least you owe us is to take a walk. Make it a long one. Perhaps you’ll even find a spare bed for the night.”

“I have a bed.”

“I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, listening to our reunion. I’ve missed my charming bride.”

“Mitchel, why are you here?” Olivia’s words are barely audible over the waves and the vein throbbing in my neck. My fists are clenched so tightly I can imagine them wrapped around Mitch’s throat and squeezing the life from his body. Yeah, I seem to have anger problems.

“Because I love you, babe,” he whines. “Yeah, I fucked up, but I realize that now.”

“You realize putting your cock in another woman on your wedding day was a mistake? Sorry I didn’t spell it out to you beforehand.” I smirk. Surely Liv is too smart to fall for this asshole’s bullshit?

“Save the lesson in morality. How long did it take for you to kiss my bride? One day or two? What about how long until you started playing ‘remember when’ just to put your fingers between her legs.”

As much as I want to smash the words back into his face, I let him talk and hang himself in the eyes of the woman he is slandering along with me. He has no idea that I’d been the one to show restraint. Okay, it was only for a couple of days, but it had been me trying to find a reason to take things slowly.

“Did you even try to sleep in two beds, or did you jump in together on that first night? What line did you use—‘let me stroke your back for you until you fall asleep’?”

---