Ariana’s POV
The house was in chaos with the wedding prep everywhere, flowers in every room. Caterers in the kitchen.
Dress fittings in the parlor.
Guest lists on every table.
Mrs. Anderson is screaming at everyone. Natasha is crying about sothing every five minutes. I had been running around for twelve hours straight.
My feet were sore.
My back was aching.
My head was pounding, but I couldn’t stop or rest. If I stopped, I would get scolded, and not just that, I would think, and if I thought, I would break.
Amaya found in the hallway.
She grabbed my arm and pulled into the empty pantry.
She closed the door behind us.
"Emily, what is going on with you?" Her voice was low. Worried. "You’ve been distant for days, and I know we’ve talked about him before, but I’m starting to worry... Ever since that billionaire showed up, you’ve been acting as though you’ve seen a ghost."
I shook my head. "I’m fine, Amaya. I’m tired. The wedding prep is exhausting."
Amaya’s eyes were sharp. "This isn’t about the wedding prep, and you know it. Sothing happened that night. Sothing you’re not telling ."
I looked away. "I can’t, I’m sorry. I just can’t."
She sighed. "Okay. I won’t push, but either way, I care about you. I don’t like seeing you like this. When you’re ready to talk, I’ll listen."
She walked out, making lean against the wall.
I closed my eyes.
Dante’s face flashed in my mind with his eyes and hands.
The way he held when I tripped.
The way he asked if I was okay.
The way he looked at was like he almost knew.
I couldn’t do this.
I couldn’t stay here.
I couldn’t watch him marry Natasha
. I couldn’t pretend to be dead while he moved on with soone else, but where would I go? Where could I run? He was everywhere now.
I needed air and space to breathe.
I grabbed the trash bags.
Three of them.
Heavy.
Slly walking through the kitchen.
Past the chefs.
Past the waitstaff, I pushed open the back door.
The night air was cold.
It hit my face.
It felt good.
I walked to the dumpsters and threw the bags inside.
I turned around I was about to go back inside.
"Emily."
A voice.
A man’s voice.
Familiar.
I froze.
Phillip Anderson walked out of the shadows with his hands in his pockets, and his face was serious.
His eyes were watching .
He looked tired.
Frustrated.
"Mr. Anderson," I said with a careful voice. "What are you doing out here? Your mother is looking for everyone."
"I’m not here because of my mother." He stepped closer. "I’m here because of you."
I stepped back. "? Why?"
"You’ve been avoiding ." His voice was firm. "For days. Weeks. Every ti I try to talk to you, you disappear... we were supposed to go out on Saturday, but you canceled. Co on, Emily... I’m tired of it. I’m tired of chasing you."
I shook my head. "I’m not avoiding you. I’ve been busy... I told you that I’m only here for work, and nothing else, and I’m sorry I make you feel that way."
"That’s not an answer." He stepped closer. "That’s an excuse, and I’m done with excuses."
"Phillip, please. I need to go back inside. They’ll be looking for ."
"Let them look." He grabbed my hand. "You’re coming with ."
"What? No, I can’t. I have work to attend to, I’m sorry."
"I don’t care about your work right now." His voice was firm. "You’ve been avoiding for too long, and that has to end... You’re going to tell why, and you’re not going to leave until I’m satisfied."
He pulled toward the garden.
I stumbled after him.
My heart was pounding.
My hands were shaking.
"Phillip, stop. Please. Soone will see us."
"Let them see." He didn’t look back. "I don’t care who sees. I don’t care what they think. I’m tired of pretending I don’t care about you."
My heart stopped. "What?"
He stopped walking and turned to face . His eyes were intense. "You heard . I care about you, Emily. I don’t know why or how, but I do, and I’m tired of you pushing away."
I stared at him. "You don’t even know ."
"Then let know you." His voice was soft now. "Stop running or hiding. Let in."
I shook my head. "I can’t. You don’t understand."
"Then make understand." He stepped closer. His face was inches from mine. "Tell what you’re running from. Tell why you wear that mask. Tell why you look at with so much fear in your eyes."
I felt the tears co. I blinked them back. "I can’t, I’m sorry. I just can’t."
Phillip’s face softened. "Okay. Okay. You don’t have to tell everything tonight, but you have to stop avoiding . You have to stop running every ti I co near you. That’s all I’m asking. Just... stop running and give a chance, I promise I won’t hurt you."
I looked at his kind eyes.
But he had no idea that his sister was about to marry the only man I love and will forever love.
"I’ll try," I said. "I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try."
Phillip smiled a small smile, but it was real. "That’s all I’m asking. Just try."
He let go of my hand and stepped back. "Now go before the housekeeper sends out a search party."
I nodded before turning.
I walked back toward the house with my heart still pounding.
What if I gave Phil a chance?
Will that erase the pain of watching Dante Marry Natasha?
Of course not!
And it won’t be fair to Phil.
He deserves better than being a rebound, and it’d be inhumane of to use him.
But Dante!
Gosh!
He can’t possibly settle for a woman like Natasha!
No!
I won’t let that happen.
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