Wish Upon a Wedding. Kate Hardy
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“How could you believe I’d walk out on you if I’d really understood what you meant? Why didn’t you stop me?”
Smooth. If she’d just give him a minute to collect his scattered wits, he might formulate a response that didn’t make him sound like a callous ass.
I’m so, so sorry. I should have asked more questions. I screwed up.
As always, he could no sooner force such emotionally laden words out of his mouth than he could force a watermelon into it.
“Because I knew, Keith! I could see the relief dripping from your expression. You never invested an ounce of effort into the wedding plans and I blew it off as typical guy hatred of flowers and musical selections. But you stood there, all calm and cool, telling me how we wouldn’t have worked out anyway. Miscarriage or false positive, it’s the same end. You were looking for an out and I handed it to you.”
You’re right. I was.
The exit had been calling his name before she’d dropped the pregnancy bomb that then tightened the noose with alarming haste. His first love was a job well done, completed by the sweat of his brow. He’d been fortunate his hard work over the years had resulted in a healthy bank account. Women typically wanted a piece of it. Providing a lavish lifestyle for an unambitious wife who wanted nothing more than to spend his money put Keith off the idea of tying himself permanently to any of them. Only an unexpected pregnancy could have turned the tide.
Of course he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. Of course he didn’t hang around to dissect it. Those dominoes had been set up long before that final showdown. Maybe even as far back as childhood, when he’d watched his mother come home with Bergdorf bags three times a week and trade in her Bentley once a year.
It didn’t make him feel any better about what he’d done. “I’m... I... You didn’t deserve that.”
There was more he should say, but it stalled in his throat. For once in his life, he had no idea how to handle a situation. No idea what to do with the clawing, suffocating guilt lodged in his windpipe.
Keith Mitchell was never caught off guard. Never at a loss for words.
“No, I didn’t deserve any of it. But I’m glad it went down like it did. Otherwise we’d be divorced by now.”
“That’s low. I would have stayed with you for the sake of the baby.”
Just as he’d intended to marry her for the sake of the baby. He’d hoped he and Cara might eventually become friendly, like his parents, and have an amicable marriage. She had connections and would be good for his public image, a tradeoff for giving her his name. It was an uneven compromise but one he’d been willing to make.
The baby part of the equation, he did not want to think about. He wasn’t cut out to be a father. Despite all the pain, it had worked out for the best.
“I wouldn’t have stayed with you. That’s not the marriage I wanted.” She sighed. “I’ll probably shoot myself later, but I’m about to agree with you. We wouldn’t have worked out. You’re a crap-head of the first order, but you did me a favor by leaving. Meredith was right. I needed closure and now I’ve got it.”
The knot in his larynx cinched a notch. Where had this woman come from? The Cara of two years ago was a completely different person than the one slouched against the elevator sidewall.
Before, she’d been flirty and fun, someone to spend time with until things ran their course or he moved on to the next job in the next city. He’d never seen their relationship as progressing toward anything serious. When she’d announced the pregnancy, the decision to marry her had come about slowly and painfully. But it took two to tango and Keith never reneged on his responsibilities.
This present-day Cara had an enigmatic blend of strength, wit, drive and determination.
And it was stunning on her.
He cleared his throat. “You said you were in love with me. Is that true?”
She’d never said that before, not even in the weeks before the wedding.
“I thought I was. Now I’m not so sure.” She shook her head. “All this time you thought I wasn’t actually pregnant? Lord, the names I called you for walking away from a woman who’d just had a miscarriage. Mama would have made me wash my mouth out with soap if she’d heard me.”
He cleared his throat. It didn’t help shake free the phrase he couldn’t withhold any longer. “Cara, I... I’m...sorry. What can I do?”
“You made a mistake and you apologized. It’s enough.”
“Not for me.”
“Sorry, Keith. You don’t get to decide. I’ve already forgiven you.”
Her casually tossed-out sentiment blazed past the knot and spread warmth through his frozen chest. Forgiveness. Freely offered. It was a gift he’d never been given, never solicited. Never wanted. Now that he had something so significant...what did he do with it?
She rolled her shoulders. “Now maybe this week won’t be as gruesome as I’ve envisioned.”
The overhead lights flickered, then shone steadily, and the elevator lurched. The doors slid open on the ground floor and Cara slipped on her shoe, then climbed to her feet, flinching as her left foot hit the marble in the lobby.
Keith snagged her hand before she could bolt. “Are you going to be able to walk on that ankle?”
Lean on me. I won’t let you down this time.
“It’s still attached, isn’t it? Nothing a good bottle of wine won’t cure.”
“Let me bring you one. Later tonight.”
More questions about the past rose up, struggling to be voiced, such as how it had happened, when she’d gone to the doctor. He wasn’t ready to let her go, but neither could he stutter through such an emotional maze. Not now. Later, after he’d processed, his coherency would surely return.
Those espresso-colored eyes danced down to their linked hands and back up again, skewering him. Her intense gaze was full of that mystique he’d begun to suspect had far more depth than anyone realized. Least of all him.
“I’m about Keith Mitchell-ed out for the day. When I said this week won’t be as gruesome as I thought, I meant I could dismiss you from my mind without a scrap of remorse.”
She slid from his grasp and hobbled across the lobby in pursuit of a goal that had nothing to do with Keith. And shouldn’t.
But he’d never been very tolerant of being dismissed, especially not when in the company of a completely different Cara than he remembered. Her business, as best he could tell, was legitimate and indeed the product of a strong work ethic, which he thoroughly respected. Was it possible she wasn’t just after a husband any longer? What could have prompted such a big turnaround?
This week had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.
* * *
Keith didn’t see Cara again until after lunch, when Marla Collins, the expo event coordinator, called a meeting with all the participants. He leaned against a lone table along the back wall of the resort conference room and listened to the spiel from a distance. Alice sat in the first row typing up the highlights, which she would email to him afterward, but he preferred to hear the details firsthand.
His gaze strayed through the seated crowd to Cara’s streaked brown hair as she leaned to whisper something in Meredith’s ear. Telling her sister about Keith’s evils, no doubt. Though she’d probably been doing that for two long years. Cara ran a business now. They likely had more pressing matters to discuss besides the callous ass in the back of the room.
Could she really have forgiven him so easily, in a scant few minutes?
He most assuredly had a hundred more pressing matters to