Page 2 of Conflagration
Shuddering at the thought, I realize that Benjamin did me a favor. I’m escaping an unsatisfying future, and now that I’ve come this close to being a carbon copy of my mother, I vow never to let anyone push me around again. If and when I do marry, it will be for love. Not for duty, purpose, or business. No. I’ll never let another man in unless I love him and he loves me. There is no way in hell I will ever be anyone’s trophy wife.
Alyssa squeezes my shoulder. “You got it, sis. I’ll handle things here. Just promise to call me when you get where you’re going. And for the record, I’ve always thought you were too good for Ben. I’m glad you see that now, too.”
Tears well up in my eyes for the first time since making my decision. Not for my wedding, but because I have no idea where to go. Benjamin—and William—talked me into taking a leave of absence from my job as an accountant, something easy to do since my father is my boss. I’m not due back to work for at least six months, and as much as I’d been dreading the time off, I’m grateful now to have the escape. My bank account will help me get by for a while, but for the first time in my life, I have no idea what to do. After a life of trying to please my parents and then Ben—and usually failing at both—I resolve that it’s time I live for me. I just wish I hadn’t spent twenty-seven years being a pushover. I guess growing a backbone late is better than never.
Looking back at Alyssa, I muster up a smile. “I love you, too. And I appreciate it, Lyss. I’ll call you as soon as I get settled.”
I slip into my car just in time to see Benjamin running out of the hotel, his dad and mine right behind him. Apparently, he’s decided that I wasn’t just blowing smoke, but it’s too damn late. As I put the car in reverse, I roll down my windows and blast the radio, finding it not all that ironic that Sam Smith’s “Stay With Me” is blaring over my speakers. I have to laugh, knowing I’ll be doing no such thing.
Just before I peel out of the parking lot, I throw on my sunglasses and yell out to Benjamin. “Sorry, Benny, but you’re going to have to find yourself another trophy wife!” Using the nickname he loathes is probably childish, but I can’t help that final parting shot.
His face looks aghast and shock fills his eyes. Yeah, it’s finally getting through to him that a kiss on the cheek doesn’t make everything better. Thank God I overheard, and just in the nick of time.
My blood’s pumping and I feel just like Julia Roberts in Runaway Bride. But instead of running away from a man who loves me unconditionally, I’m running from what would have been a huge mistake. And running straight towards an unknown future.
When I get to the highway, I’m not sure which direction I should take. At the last second, I choose north.
I don’t know where I’m going, but anywhere is better than here.
BZZZZ. BZZZZ.
The sound of my phone vibrating has become almost commonplace. It’s been doing so for the last four hours, and no matter how many times I hit ignore, Benjamin keeps calling. As does William. And Victoria. The only one who’s leaving me in peace is Alyssa, and I love her to pieces for it.
I know I should’ve been strong enough to stay behind and face the music, but I couldn’t. The truth is that I’ve never been the strong one. I’ve always been the yes girl, and my resolve isn’t as strong as I’d like to think. No, putting as much distance between me and my wedding is the best thing I can do right now, even if it does make me a coward. I’d rather be a coward than wake up tomorrow married to the furthest thing from the man of my dreams.
If I’d been stronger, I never would’ve allowed my father to set me up on a blind date. I never would’ve decided that complacency and security were enough in a relationship, and I sure as hell never would’ve accepted the ridiculously extravagant—and public—proposal last fall. Inhaling deeply, I decide that I’m turning over a new leaf. I don’t know where I’m going, but somehow, along the way, I’m going to find my own strength. And I won’t return home until I do. No matter how long it takes.
Glancing down at my phone, I see that the latest call is from Victoria, and I groan, knowing there’s no way I’m speaking to her now. I throw my phone into my purse on the passenger’s seat and then focus back on the road, looking out the windshield at the beautiful mountains in Tennessee. It’s a gorgeous view, especially with the setting sun, and I get distracted watching the sun dip between two rising peaks. As I round a corner, I look ahead just in time to see a semi-truck barreling into my lane, and before I can hit the brakes, I hear screams sounding in my ear—my own screams—as the truck slams into the front end of my car, sending it spinning.
My heart’s racing and I squeeze my eyes shut, knowing this is it. This is the end. I steel myself against my seat until the car comes to a complete stop. Silence fills the air, and slowly, I open my eyes, one at a time, hopeful that I can make it out of this alive. My windshield is cracked, and smoke’s filling the air, but when I look down, I’m seemingly unscathed.
My chest heaves as I try to unbuckle my seatbelt, but for some reason, it does nothing when I press down on the button. Looking out the windshield, I see the semi-truck only feet away, its engine already on fire. My thumb presses down on the release button, but I can’t get it to dislodge. Panic starts to set in as my eyes race from the seatbelt that’s holding me captive to the consuming fire that’s growing with every second. I’m simultaneously cursing God and anyone else I can think of while also praying for safety when I hear a loud bang on my window, my prayers seemingly answered.
A muffled voice shouts and I strain my ear to make out the words as I turn my gaze to the driver’s side window. My heartbeat quickens when I see the handsome stranger standing at my window. My eyes widen in shock when I realize he’s not a stranger at all. Well, not really. We’ve met—only once—but his face is one I’d never forget. And one I never thought I’d see again. In fact, I’m almost not sure that he’s real.
I’m distracted as he pounds on the glass, looking back and forth between me and the blazing inferno. I go to open the door, but it won’t move—almost as if something in the crash had knocked the mechanics off-kilter—and I have no way to escape. Panic washes over his face, and I feel the same panic flowing through me. Tugging on my seatbelt, I’m suddenly aware that it’s no use. Looking around, I see the flames, and when I look back at his face, I see it in his eyes. It’s too late for me. But it’s not too late for him.
I press my hand to the window and hope my eyes are pleading enough to get him to save himself. Instead of fleeing, his big hand comes to the window, covering my own.
“Get out!” I scream at him, not even sure if he can hear me.
But it’s no use. He pounds against the window, determination in his eyes. My eyes flick to the semi-truck and I see the fire creeping closer. Panic surges in me and I start banging on the window, frantic and desperate for him to get away.
A sob catches in my throat when I see his elbow actually cause a crack in the window. Leaning into the passenger’s seat, I cover myself as he hits it a few more times, finally breaking free. After he pushes the glass away, he crawls into the car and starts working on the seatbelt, but it still won’t budge.
A hissing sounds fills my ears, and I know it’s just a matter of time before we blow sky high. I try to push him out of the car, begging and pleading for him to save himself, but he doesn’t. Somehow, someway, he cuts me free and pulls me into his arms, slipping me out of the car just in the nick of time. As my arms wrap around his neck, he holds me close and strides away from the burning vehicle. His arms tighten around me, and he whispers sweet words in my ear, but they’re indecipherable. Pain flows through my body, my head throbbing as warm blood trickles down the side of my face. My eyelids feel heavy and I can no longer keep them open.
Just as I’m falling unconscious, the last thing I hear is, “I’m no savior.”
As darkness takes over, the last thought I have is that it’s a lie. Because he most certainly is mine.
VOICES FILL the air around me, and as I try to open my eyes, I can’t. They won’t cooperate no matter how hard I try. My limbs won’t respond either, and with the little bit of clarity I have left, I determine that I’m strapped down on what I’m guessing is a gurney. I can’t move. Pain engulfs me, and as quickly as I came to, I feel like I’m slipping under again. I try to fight it, but it’s no use. Everything turns pitch black, and as much as I try to avoid it, I’m taken back to the place where everything changed, turning my life into a downward spiral. A place I’ve tried long and hard to forget.
May 2002
AS I reel from Mom’s revelation that my dad didn’t know about me until after I was born, I decide to go to his office to confront him about it. Fortunately—or unfortunately for me—he’s in a meeting, and I hear every single traitorous word.
I feel like I’m being sucker-punched right in the face and then kicked in the stomach for extra measure. All my life, it’s been my goal to follow in my father’s footsteps. One day, I’d run Wellington Enterprises. That’s why I busted my ass all through high school. Studied day and night to maintain a 4.0 GPA in my last three years in college. Spent every summer interning with the company instead of getting laid and hanging by the pool. Because I knew my place. As the firstborn, it was my birthright. I may not share his name, but I’ve always been first in line to the proverbial Wellington throne.
