Page 73 of Faking Summer
My jaw involuntarily twitched, blood boiling as her eyes locked onto mine in a way that said she had just figured me out, was seeing right through me.
"But our entire family will be at the wedding tomorrow, and a lot of eyes will be on you," she continued, "So, I suggest that you either take the importance of tomorrow seriously or you do not show up at all."
Caroline was one of the most hardheaded people I had ever met, and I was starting to understand why she didn’t trust anyone. Her own mother thought I’d do this out of pity? That I’d use her?
"Mrs. Matthews," I cleared my throat, "respectfully, you're wrong. This isn't pity or some meaningless fling. Caroline is way too good for me. If anything, she deserves better than me, and I know that every damn second I’m lucky enough to be with her. But pity?No. The only person I feel sorry for is you—because if you can’t see how incredible your daughter is, then you don’t know her at all."
Mrs. Matthews remained silent, eyes scanning my face, searching for a lie that wasn’t there. With nothing left to say, I turned to leave, my voice calm as I added, "If you’ll excuse me—she’s waiting."
Her expression was one I couldn't quite read—maybe shock and a small sliver of respect. Whatever it was still left me feeling unbalanced and frustrated.
Caroline stood with Sam and a few of the bridesmaids. "Hey," I said softly as I approached, brushing her cheek with a kiss, the brief contact bringing my mind back to ease.
Her eyes, the ones I couldn’t stop thinking about lately, flickered up to mine. "Were you just talking to my mom?" she asked, turning to face me.
"It was nothing," I said, dismissing it. Caroline didn't need to know the terrible things her own mother just said—not now, not when I knew how much this weekend meant to her.
"Come on," she said, tilting her head toward the exit. "I have something to show you before the rehearsal dinner."
"Lead the way, Chaos."
She smirked, a playful glint in her eyes as she leaned in close enough for me to catch the faint scent of lavender in her hair. "You, sir," she whispered, "are about to finally find out the secret behind my tattoo."
Dropping my hands in my pockets, I followed her lead as we headed outside.
"Does this mean you're going to have to kill me after?" I asked, only half-joking as the barn door creaked open. "Because I need to make sure anyone but Bailey gets my shoes."
"Why can’t he have your shoes?" Caroline questioned, her head tilted while she continued forward, guiding us inside the dark barn. I followed, drawn by the secretive smile on her lips.
"I loaned him a pair once," I murmured as she looked around fora light switch. "He destroyed them in a day. Those shoes weren’t just messed up, they were talking."
"Talking?" Her voice drifted back to me, but I could no longer see her.
"You know, when they're so torn they flap open and closed as you walk. Like they're trying to speak their last dying words."
She switched on a light before letting out a laugh. And then she moved again, leading us onward. "Meet Goldilocks," she announced, stepping in front of a stall to reveal a horse.
I watched her approach the horse, a creature almost as beautiful as Caroline herself, with a tan coat and blonde hair. The mare's eyes, sweet and understanding, seemed to recognize her immediately.
"Hi, Goldilocks," I murmured, reaching out with a gentle touch. Caroline continued to pet her as she handed her a treat. "They let us be a part of their world here. My sister and I used to sit right there," she gestured to a hay bale. "We’d help out with the horses, then read and do our homework until our parents picked us up. When she was a baby, we readGoldilocks and the Three Bears, and her ears twitched with every 'just right.' They let us name her. I guess she's always been a bit of a sanctuary for me." Her gaze drifted away, lost in the memories. “Life gets busy," Caroline continued, her fingers tracing patterns on Goldilocks’ neck. "I don’t get to visit her as often as I used to, but she’s been there for me through so many rough days."
"That's too bad," I said, watching Caroline with Goldilocks, the way her fingers tenderly brushed through the horse's mane.
"Charlotte always wanted to get married here—having a view of the lake and the horses," she said, her voice softening as she glanced over her shoulder, pointing towards the lake where tables had been arranged and set up for dinner. Candles flickered in the gentle breeze.
I watched her, this woman who could start a fire with her words. And as she stood there in the dying light, conversing with a creature as wild-hearted as herself, I couldn't help but feel my cold heart starting to melt.
"You're beautiful," I whispered, leaning an arm on the weathered wood, watching them together.
Caroline glanced up, misreading my intent, her gaze returning to the horse. "I know," she agreed. "I might be partial, but I think she's the prettiest horse I've ever seen."
Goldilocks seemed to sense the compliment, letting out a contented snort of approval that ruffled the quiet.
"I wasn't talking about her," I said quietly.
Caroline paused and almost looked disappointed at my compliment. She stepped away and took a seat on a haystack. "Don't do that," she breathed.
"Do what?"
