“Don’t sweat it, Iz. I know you’ve got your hands full this week with wedding stuff. Isn’t tonight some kind of rehearsal thing?”
“Only for the children and parents.” I survey the hallway, trying to recall the state of my cabin. I’ll need to tidy before they arrive. “Mark and Bree need a little extra time with Libby and Brian to practice having the flower girl tow the ring bearer down the aisle without tipping the wagon.”
“Smart. Well, still, let me cover dinner. How about I pick up takeout from that vegan place you like?”
I love that he remembers the restaurants I favor, even if we’ve never been there together. There’s also no need to remind him about my dietary precautions. “That sounds lovely,” I tell him. “Thank you, Bradley.”
“Thank you.” The smile in his voice is even brighter than his mother’s. “I’ve been putting in crazy hours at the clinic this week, so I’m glad to finally get to see you.”
“Same. I can’t wait to see you.” It’s true, and I hate that it’s true, and I close my eyes as guilt curdles my gut. “I’m looking forward to it.”
He has no idea how much. I need to keep it that way, keep us both on the same page about this being a temporary thing. If he knew how much I want to be with him, want to spend every waking moment—
“Stop it.”
“Okay,” Bradley says, and I realize I’ve spoken aloud. “What am I stopping?”
I laugh because it’s such a Bradley thing to say. “Nothing. I’m sorry, just thinking out loud.”
“About needing to stop something?” He laughs. “Is this the opposite of positive thinking?”
“Yes, I’m all about the negative,” I reply primly. “A reminder to stop wishing I could have corndogs and cotton candy for every meal and be grateful for what I can have.”
Bradley’s quiet for a moment, and I pray I haven’t revealed too much with my poor—and mostly accidental—metaphor. “Whatever works,” he says at last. “So I’ll be there at six?”
“Can’t wait.” There’s a burst of muffled laughter behind me, and I glance down, remembering I’m still wearing my wedding attire. “I should go,” I tell him. “I need to take my dress off.”
He gives a low groan. “Thanks for that mental picture. Maybe we should meet now?”
I laugh and do my best not to imagine him dragging the zipper down, planting a soft trail of kisses along my spine as he cups my—
“Six will be fine,” I tell him. “I’m sure I can come up with some other items of clothing for you to remove.”
“I’m counting on it,” he says. “See you in a few hours, Iz.”
“See you.”
I hang up with guilt and excitement bubbling together in a toxic brew in my belly. Apparently, it’s done me little good avoiding Bradley these past few days. A poor choice, perhaps. Maybe I should have focused on spending as much time as possible with him before I have to go.
I glance behind me at the door to the dressing suite we’ve commandeered for our final fitting. It was Bree’s idea building this space, part of the luxury package she envisioned for the high-end weddings we host here. What would it be like to be part of that? Not just the team of siblings running the place, but the vision for Ponderosa Luxury Ranch Resort. Watching them work together these past few months, I’ve grown an acute awareness of what it’s like to be part of a team. A family unit that bears little resemblance to the one awaiting me in Dovlano.
I swear my mother must read my thoughts. It’s the only explanation for why my phone suddenly chimes in my hand.
“Hello, Mother.” I straighten my posture, certain she can sense me slouching in the hall from halfway around the globe. “I’m actually in the middle of something right now.”
My mother gives a huff of dismay. “Something more important than boarding a private jet home to serve your familial obligations?”
I swallow hard, hating how small I suddenly feel. “I’m trying on my wedding dress.” My mother’s sharp intake of breath forces me to clarify. “For Jonathan’s wedding,” I blurt. “My brother who gave me the kidney. I’m part of his—”
“I know who Jonathan is, Isabella.” The tightness in her voice suggests I’ve missed my mark in trying to tug her heartstrings. “He’s not the only one who needs you, you know.”
I close my eyes and lean back against the wall. “I know that, Mother.”
“I don’t think you do know, Isabella. Patience is running thin. There’s been talk.”
There is always talk. I can’t bring myself to ask for details, but I don’t need to.
“Rumors are circulating that you’re planning to disgrace the family,” she continues. “Do you have any idea what sort of political upheaval would be caused by—”
“I know!” The words land like a slap. “I know what’s at stake, Mother. And I’ve told you, I’ll be home soon.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
“That’s not good enough. The situation is dire.”
“Dire?”
My mother sighs, then lowers her voice. “It’s not just our family counting on you. You understand what shame can do to a person.”
I understand precisely, which is why it’s the knife she’s choosing to twist. “I do understand.”
“I’m not sure you do. If anything happens—”
“I said I’ll come home soon.”
“And I said I’m finished with your vague platitudes, Isabella.”
I let out a slow breath as someone rounds the corner at the end of the hall. It’s Mark’s wife, Chelsea, beaming like she’s thrilled to see me. I smile back and wave, delighted to see her in spite of everything. I gesture to the phone so she knows why I can’t talk.
It’s not the only reason. I can’t find my voice, can’t find a way to force the words up my throat and into my mother’s ear. She must hear the weakness in me because her voice rings out crisp and tight.
“I’ll make the arrangements,” my mother says as Chelsea draws closer. “Knowing there’s a date on the calendar and a scheduled flight should be enough to calm things down for now.”
“But—” My protest dies as Jade and Amber push through the side door and nearly collide with Chelsea. I watch as all three women—my friends, these wives of my brothers and cousin—embrace and laugh and draw back to touch Chelsea’s belly.
I blink hard against the realization gripping me. I’m an outsider to the world inhabited by these women. I love them, and I want so badly to belong here, but I can’t. Deep down, I’ve always known this.
Bradley’s face flashes in my mind, knocking the breath from my lungs. I’m going under, dragged down by the force of my wish for something I can never have.
“All right.” I breathe the words softly into the phone. They’re almost not words at all, but a surrender, a white flag waving tiredly over my head. “All right, Mother.”
Bradley appears on my porch at exactly six with Kevin on a leash. Both are wearing red bowties, but only one oinks cheerfully at the sight of me.