Page 37 of The Billionaire's Wedding

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A whole multitude of emotions ran through me all at once.

First there was shock. Like, I can’t believe I just heard that.

There was anger, too. Like How DARE you?! You humiliated me! You almost made me lose the one man I’ve ever loved! And you think ‘I’m sorry’ is enough?

But more than anything, there was a rush of sadness and joy at the same time.

I think it was forgiveness. Or at least the beginning of it.

Because I knew how hard it was for this cold, stubborn man to come here and say it. He had probably never said ‘I’m sorry’ before in his entire life. Certainly never to his son.

But he had said it to me.

I remembered how he had stood in front of a dark window while Connor lay wounded in a hospital bed, and poured out his heart to me.

Has he ever talked to you about his and my relationship? It’s been strained for years. Many years. It’s both our fault, yes… but in a moment like tonight, I can’t help but feeling… I should have been the bigger man. I should have stopped this stupid, pointless bickering long ago…

When he came and got me in Mexico, I couldn’t show him… because of our history… but I wanted to hug him. I wanted to thank him, because I knew… I knew he’d done something Vincent would have never done. I knew he had risked his life to save mine. But, being a foolish and cantankerous old man, I didn’t tell him that. I was, I suppose, something of an ass about the whole thing.

But I swore that one day, I would make it up to him… that when he needed it most, I would be there for him. I would find some way to show him how much it meant to me, that he had risked so much for me.

I wondered if that day might have come.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

Mr. Templeton looked deep into my eyes, then nodded with gratitude.

Connor stared at me. “‘Thank you?’ ‘Thank you?!’ For WHAT?! He tried to ruin you – he tried to ruin both of us!”

“That was a mistake,” his father said.

“A mistake?! A MISTAKE?! That was no fucking ‘mistake,’” Connor raged. “That was deliberate. It was one of the coldest, most calculated acts of character assassination I’ve ever seen. Machiavelli would have loved the hell out of it.”

The elder Templeton closed his eyes. “I was wrong to do it.”

“Oh – OH! You’re so magnanimous to admit it! You stick the knife in and break it off, and now, after I almost died, you’re like, ‘Whoops, shouldn’t have done that’? God damn you. Go fuck yourself.”

“Connor,” I said, and put my hand on his sleeve.

“I can’t believe you’re falling for this bullshit,” Connor hissed. “He’s playing you. This is an angle, just like what Miranda’s doing. It just happens to be a more insidious, fucked-up line of attack, is all.”

“It’s the truth,” Mr. Templeton said.

“No – you don’t get to apologize,” Connor said, jabbing his finger savagely at his father. “You don’t get to say ‘I’m sorry’ after all you’ve done.”

“Connor,” I said, louder.

The old man regarded his son wearily. “This was obviously a mistake.”

“What, a ‘mistake’ like you trying to shame and degrade my fiancée in front of the world? A ‘mistake’ like the time you tried to destroy me? A ‘mistake’ like – ”

“CONNOR!” I yelled.

Both father and son looked at me in shock.

“Go on,” I said, and jerked my head back towards the ballroom. “Let me talk to him.”

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