Page 2 of Until the End

“I don’t know. She texted me a second ago and asked me to find you. She said it was an emergency.”

“An emergency? And she won’t talk to you?”

She shakes her head. “I’ve tried calling her, but she sends me to voicemail every time. She’s also locked the door to her suite.”

“Fuck.” I run my fingers through my hair. “Okay. Take me to her.”

Gia takes off down the hallway without a backward glance. I follow in her footsteps, trying to figure out what Ginny could possibly need from me that she couldn’t get from Gia. As her twin, you’d think Gia would be better qualified for an emergency.

“Ginny, please open the door. You’re going to be late for the ceremony.” A severe woman is peppering knocks on the suite’s door. Her grey hair is pulled back into a hairstyle so tight, it gives her a facelift. I have a fleeting thought that she looks like the strict headmaster of a private school.

“Excuse me.” While the words are polite, my tone isn’t. I need to get in there.

The woman huffs. “Good luck.” She turns and stomps down the hallway.

I lay my forehead on the wood. “Goose? It’s me.” My childhood nickname for Ginny rolls off my tongue with ease. It’s been a while since I called her that. “Will you open the door?”

“It’s just you?” Her small voice comes from inside the room.

I raise an eyebrow at Gia. She nods and squeezes my arm before going back toward the ceremony hall. “Yeah, it’s just me.”

When Ginny opens the door, I stifle a gasp. Her face is ravaged by tears. Her cheeks are blotchy, and her eyes are red from crying. I step into the room, closing the door behind me. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

She pulls me into the tightest hug I’ve ever gotten from her.

Then her words stop me short.

“Get me out of here, Carson.”

Chapter 2

Ginny

Idon’t recognize the woman in the mirror.

Her blonde hair has been dyed and styled until it no longer resembles the original color, her face is almost gaunt from forced dieting, and the blue eyes that should be so familiar to me are lifeless.

What am I even doing?

I’m not sure how I got to this point in my life.

Cowardice.

The voice in my head sounds an awful lot like my twin sister, Gia. She’s standing on the other side of the room, talking with our mom. I have no idea where my other bridesmaids are getting ready. That’s probably for the best. They’re mostly acquaintances to me. My manager thought it would make me look bad if I only had my sister as my attendant, but I don’t have any friends in LA. Apparently, my best friends from my hometown don’t count because they’re not famous.

Hence why I’m a coward. Instead of standing up to her, I let Cecelia steamroll me into this decision. I hate conflict. Arguing for the sake of arguing makes me itchy. And I honestly didn’t have much in the way of preferences when itcame to planning our wedding. I always imagined getting married somewhere in my hometown, with a spray of beautiful flowers from my aunt Hope’s shop and my family in attendance, cheering for my happiness.

Letting my manager and wedding planner have free rein seemed like the best idea, since I didn’t care much about venues or colors or flower types. At the end of the day, as long as I got married, that’s what mattered.

Now, I’m sitting in a creepy-as-all-get-out building—it has literal gargoyles outside—trying to figure out how I lost myself so thoroughly.

I need to talk to Wesley. He’s usually pretty good at setting me back on the right path when I’m being dramatic.

“Can I have a moment alone?”

The entire room falls silent. They’re the first words I’ve spoken in an hour, and my throat is a little scratchy.

My manager looks at her watch. Cecelia’s sharp features give her a hawklike appearance, and her grey hair is pulled back so tightly I can’t fathom how she doesn’t have a headache. Maybe that’s why she’s so cross today. “You have five minutes. Then we need to get you to the altar.”

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