Page 32 of Redemption
I huff a laugh, nodding and taking a sip of my drink. “I think I can handle it. It’s quite entertaining.”
“That it is.” she laughs, settling into the chair beside me. I watch as she reaches up to unclasp the necklace dangling from her neck. She slips the ring off of it and pushes her hand toward me. “I want to give you this.”
It takes me a minute, but I realize what it is. That’s the ring Ben gave her. “Oh, Ana. No.No.” I shake my head, slightly drawing back from her outstretched hand. This was too much.Toomuch. I have never seen Ana without that ring around her neck.
“I insist.” Her tone leaves no room for debate. She grabs my hand, and gently places it in mine. I glance down at the small ring in my palm. It’s stunning. Not overly flashy, at least not in the traditional sense. It’s soft and delicate–thoughtful in the way that makes me think Ben spent hours searching for the perfect ring for Ana.
A pale pink oval gem is nestled in the middle, surrounded by a halo of dainty white diamonds that catch the overhead lightswith every movement. The band itself is white gold. Twisting into a gentle floral inspired pattern. It screams memories and kept promises. Love and prosperity. It’s a dream. One I don’t deserve. “Shouldn’t this go to Blake?” I ask nervously, glancing up at her.
She shakes her head. “Blake got my engagement ring.Youget my wedding ring.”
Ana clasps my face between her hands, “Thank you for putting the light back into my boy’s eyes.” Then, she’s pulling me into a bone-crushing hug.
I hate this. I hate lying to her. Hate that I’m not really the one for Wyatt. That this is fake and nothing about us being together actually means anything. That this isn’t the life Brinley will have. It’s just the pitstop before getting to the one she deserves.
I force myself to nod, refusing to spew any false promises at this woman. My eyes burn with the need to cry. I can’t thank her—not when what I’m doing is the biggest form of betrayal. She’s trusting me with something so important, and I’m the last person on earth who deserves that kindness.
What would she really think if she knew?
Chapter Twenty-Three
WYATT
Istare at the wedding ring on Whitney’s finger.
This was bad. Really,fuckingbad.
Not just because this wasn’t supposed to be taken this far, but because I’m sure I’ll become so obsessed with the sight of Whitney with a ring on her finger that I’ll superglue it to her hand if she ever tries to take it off.
That ring is sacred. My mother loves that ring, and she wouldn’t have given it lightly. And it fits Whitneyperfectly.No need to resize it. If that isn’t a sign, I don’t know what is.
“We need to set a date for the wedding.” I clear my throat, tearing my attention from her ring finger. I didn’t see it until this morning. Game night was short lived when Whitney and I kept kicking everyone’s asses. No sore loser was left behind. If I thought I could be competitive, Whitney was a whole different ballgame. “How about this weekend?” I ask.
“Might as well get it over with, right?” She mumbles, twisting the ring around her finger.
“Right.” I agree before adding, “I have a trip out of town. So, after I get back.”
“Out of town for what?” She shoots me a suspicious glance.
“Business.” I reply shortly.
She tilts her head, eyeing me. “That’s ominous.”
I ignore her, not really in the mood to explain my plans to her. I was, however, a little nervous about leaving her and Brinley here alone after all the bullshit with Andrew. I might ask my mom to stay with them–if Whitney doesn’t try to rip my head off at the proposition. I scootch back from the kitchen island and move around to make her another cup of coffee. It’s nearly five in the morning, and Brinley is still asleep. I offered to make breakfast, but she told me to “stop being nice,” and picked up a mug instead. I also tried to explain that caffeine is not a substantial breakfast, and she nearly threw said mug at my head. I pour her typical caramel flavored creamer in when she pipes up and asks, “Do I at least get a honeymoon after?”
I know she’s teasing me. Picking at me to see how far I’ll take it. I give her a teasing grin. “Maybe if you’re good.”
She rolls her eyes, but when she looks at my face, or rather my mouth, she cocks her head. “Did you get veneers?”
“What?” I laugh. She’s like a damn golden retriever. “No.”
Shooting me an irritated grin, she leans forward on the island. “I just don’t understand how your teeth are so stupidly perfect.”
“Was that a compliment, Winnie?”
“Don’t let it go to your head.” Before I can say anything else, she’s changing the topic back to wedding-related thoughts. “I’ll have to find a dress today or tomorrow, then.”
“Maybe some lingerie, too.” I add, causally. I haven’t even thought about what I’ll be wearing. It’s not a traditional sort of wedding. What the hell does one wear to the courthouse to marry someone that looks like Whitney? My mom is going to be livid that she won’t get to throw some over-the-top wedding like she and Elise did for Blake. She’ll just have to get over it.
