Read Work of Art Online

Authors: Monica Alexander

Work of Art (32 page)

When I met him at the door, he said, “Okay, let’s do this,” and put his arm around my shoulder.

I shrugged him off. “I need t
o talk to Trish.”

“Uh, isn’t
that like bad luck or something?”

I turned and faced him. “John, I just chased another girl out of the church. I think a bad luck superstition is the least of my worries.”

“Oh, shit. You’re calling it off?” he asked in a hushed whisper.

“Yeah, I am,” I said resignedly, wishing there was another way around what I had to do.
I sincerely wished I would have seen this sooner.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, jumping into action.

“Nothing. I want to talk to Trish first. But stick around. I’ll probably need you in about ten minutes.”

He nodded, and I turned and headed for the bridal room.

I knocked a few times on the door, and Trish called for me to come in. She was sitting on a wooden chair, her shoulders slumped as she pulled her veil slowly through her fingers. When she looked up at me her eyes were red-rimmed.

“The ceremony was supposed to start twenty minutes ago,” she said flatly.

I nodded. “I know.”

Then she shrugged. “In the back of my mind, I knew this would happen. From the first time you took me out
, and even though you tried to be in the moment, I knew you were miles away. You’d just dealt with all that drama with your ex, and I figured you weren’t ready to date. I figured you’d only asked me out because your mother wanted us to date, and I’d never hear from you again, and it made me sad. But then you called, and you asked me out again, and again and again. And I fell for you, Ryan, and I hoped that one day, you might feel the same way.”

I didn’t know what to say. How could I apologize for this?

She sighed. “And then you asked me to move here with you and you proposed, and I thought, he must love me if he’s asking me to marry him, but I realized a few months ago that you never once told me you loved me.” I opened my mouth to respond but she held her hand up to stop me. “You’ve never said it. I’ve said it a lot, and you always say ‘me too’.”

I nodded
slowly, realizing that she was right. I’d never said it, and I hadn’t even realized it.

“And I’m such a stupid girl,” she said, her voice hitching, “because I held out hope that if I could just get you to the church and get you to say yes that you’d b
e happy, but now I know I was wrong. I think you love me, but I know you’re not in love with me, and it’ll probably take me a long time to get over this, but I like to think that being left at the altar is better than being stuck in a loveless marriage and getting divorced.” She shrugged. “But that’s just me.”

I walked over to her and fell to my knees in front of her, because I had so much damn respect for her in that moment, and I was such a coward.

“I’m sorry, Trish,” I said, my heart breaking as I looked up into her watery blue eyes.

She forced a smile. “I know you are, because you’re a good, kind, wonderful man who would never do anything intentionally to hurt me or anyone else, but I think you got caught up in something more than you ever wanted. And truthfully, I’m surprised you lasted this long. For the
past six months, ever since you slid this ring on my finger, I was waiting for you to take it off. But now, I’ll do it for you.”

She
slowly pulled off the ring I’d given her on New Year’s Day and held it out to me.

I shook my head. “It’s yours. Keep it.”

“No,” she said firmly. “I don’t want it. That ring was everything I wanted, because I wanted you, but I don’t want a constant reminder that I wasn’t good enough for the man I loved.”

I bowed my head, feeling less than worthy of being in her presence. “I never meant to hurt you,” I said quietly.

“I know.” Then she stood up and walked over to the window. She took a deep breath and didn’t face me when she said, “I think I’d like to leave before everyone finds out what happened, and I’d like to change first before I do that. Would you give me the courtesy of ten minutes before you announce that the wedding is off?”

“Yes,” I said, still on my knees where she’d left me. “I’ll do anything you ask.”

She smiled. I could see her reflection in the window, but it was a ghost of a smile. “Thank you. I’ll send someone to get my things from the apartment. I’m going back to Boston to stay with my parents. If any mail comes for me, can you forward it to their address?”

She sounded so robotic that I wanted to go o
ver and hug her, but I knew it was the last thing she wanted. And the worst part was, I knew exactly how she felt.

“Trish,” I said, moving to stand. “Please know that I never wanted hurt you, and I hate myself for what I’m doing do you.”

She turned around to face me. “I’ll be okay. But I’m worried about you, Ryan. I want you to be happy, and you haven’t been happy in a long time. And I know that was partially my fault, and for that, I’m sorry. But I do hope you’ll take the steps in your life to be happy and to be with someone who you love and who can give you what you need.”

“I never deserved you,” I told her honestly, because I
truly didn’t. She was too good for me.

“That’s not true. We just weren’t meant to be together.”

No, we weren’t.

I wasn’t sure if there was anything else to say
. I thought about telling her everything, spilling my guts out about everything I’d learned about Harper and Tyler and my family, but it seemed so pointless. And it would seem like I was trying to justify my actions and minimize the impact of what I’d just done, because how could I be expected to be happy and get married after everything I’d just learned? But that wasn’t the truth. What I’d learned was just a small part of the reason why I wasn’t happy and didn’t want to get married, and I wouldn’t use it as a crutch. I wouldn’t use Tyler’s story like that. I wouldn’t dishonor his memory.

S
o I started to walk to the door. “The limo will be waiting out front to take you whenever you’re ready,” I told Trish. “I’ll instruct him to take you to the hotel to get your things and then to the airport or to our apartment. I’m sure you’ll want to pack up a few things before you go home. I’ll stay away today. I’ll give you your space.”

She nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

I took a deep breath. “Take care, Trisha.”

“You too, Ryan.”

I closed the door to the bridal suite and leaned back against it for a few beats, hating myself so much. And then I went to tell the limo driver the change in plans. I waited until I saw Trish leave the bridal suite using the outside exit, watched her walk to the limo, climb inside, and I watched her drive away, wishing the whole time that things could have turned out different. But they hadn’t, and I’d done something I couldn’t take back, and I’d hurt someone I truly cared about. That was just my reality.

After a few minutes, I knew I needed to head back inside. When I was walking into the church, I ran into John.

“You told her?”

“Yes. She just left.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Can you tell, Mom? I need to get out of her
e, and I’m going to be public enemy number one in about five minutes, and I just can’t deal with her.”

“Tell Mom what?” my mother asked from behind me, her tone full of ice.

I froze. Then I turned around to face her. “I’m not getting married today.”

She laughed a short, non-humorous laugh. “Don’t be stupid, Ryan,” she sneered, but I stood my ground.

“Shut up, Mom.”

It was completely childish, but damn did it feel good to
say it to her.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Now get out of my way. I’m leaving.”

“Ryan Nicholas Carson, you’d better think this through before you do something that will embarrass this family. There is a church full of people out there who have come to see you get married, and you
will
get married.”

“No, I won’t,” I sa
id raising my voice just enough so she knew I was serious. “Mom, I don’t love her. I won’t marry someone I don’t love. Besides, Trish is already gone.”

“This is abou
t that Connelly girl, isn’t it?” she snapped. “The one who tried to ruin your life ten years ago, and she would have if–”

She stopped talking because she’d said too much
, and she knew it. “If what, Mom? If you hadn’t sabotaged our entire relationship and made me think she aborted our baby? Is that what you were going to say?”

“I don’t know what you’re taking about,” she said, her voice raising a few octaves.

My dad chose that moment to walk up to us. “What in the world is going on out here, and what is the hold up?”

I just glared at him
and turned back to my mother.

“You know
exactly what I’m talking about, Mother. Harper and I figured it out. You’re sick, both of you, creating fake email addresses and emailing each of us the one thing you knew we’d never forgive. You broke us up, and you thought you’d fixed the issue until Lisa ran into Harper and saw that she’d decided to have the baby.”

My mother put her hands on her hips. “
I did not want a bastard child of yours being brought into this world, especially if it linked you to that girl for the rest of your life. You were eighteen, Ryan. You were in no position to be a father or a husband, so I took the opportunity away for you, and you should be thanking me. You went to Yale and have a career you can be proud of. If you would have become a father at eighteen, you wouldn’t have had any of that. I did it for
you
.”

I gritted my teeth and shook my head. “No, you didn’t. You did it for yourself, because you couldn’t stand having a son who didn’t have an Ivy League education and a six figure salary. You couldn’t stand that everyone would know Harper had gotten pregnant in high school. You hated the thought of being a topic of gossip. That’s why you did it. Don’t even try that bullshit that it was for my own good. I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Ryan, you will not talk to your mother that way,” my father roared.

“Screw you, Dad.
You’re just as culpable in this situation as she is. I’m done.” I pushed past them. I was finished with the conversation, and I no longer wanted to look at either of their faces.

“That girl tried to ruin your life,”
my mother called after me.

I spun
around and faced her. “No, Mother.
You
tried to ruin my life, and you damn near got away with it. You already took away the opportunity for me to know my son, you’re not taking anything else.”

“What do you mean I took the opportunity away from you? Go know your bastard son if you feel so inclined to. I’m sure that girl will welcome you into her life with open arms, what with your trust fund and your bank account.”

I stepped up to her face, coming so close to reaching out and striking her. My dad tried to push me back, but I shrugged him off.

“First of all, Harper probably has more money than I do. She’s an accomplished painter, photographer and tattoo artist. Her work is beautiful, regardless of the medium. Hell, Trish bought three of her paintings without even knowing who she was.
Second, don’t ever call my son a bastard. He was a beautiful little boy who did nothing wrong and only deserved to be loved by both of his parents, but he grew up thinking he didn’t have a father, and that’s your fault. You robbed him of ever knowing me, and you robbed me of ever knowing him, because not only did I find out two nights ago that he existed, but I also found out that he died
seven years
ago. So when I tell you that you took something from me that I can never get back, I’m not being dramatic. You took my son from me, and now I’m going to take yours from you.”

“Ryan, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh, I’m being far from ridiculous, Mother. Please don’t contact me again. I’m finished with you.”

Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes closed to almost slits, but I didn’t respond. I just turned and walked out of the church and away from my family for good.

“Ryan!” my father roared behind me, but I just kept walking.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

Harper

 

“Hey,” Brandon said when he let himself into our hotel room. “I didn’t
think you’d be here.”

I shrugged, my knees pulled up to my chest as I sat against the hea
dboard of the king-sized bed. Brandon looked a little disheveled. His tie was loosened, the top few buttons on his shirt were undone, and his shirttails were hanging out. And hair looked like he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly. 

“I didn’t have a ride and didn’t feel like trying to find one. How was the ceremony?”

I wasn’t sure why I was asking. I didn’t really want to know.

Brandon raised an eyebrow at me. “It’s wasn’t.
Ry called it off.”

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