Page 184 of Bridesmaid By Chance
“You know what I fucking mean, okay. She’s just…she’s different, and I’m different around her. It shouldn’t be like this, but it is.”
“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever heard a more evasive answer. That was rather impressive.”
“Don’t make me fucking say it.” I drag my hand over my face.
“Yeah, I’m going to make you say it.”
Grumbling, I say, “I like her. I shouldn’t but I do, and I’ve become attached. And I shouldn’t be attached. She talks about fucking divorce all the goddamn time, so I know she’s not in the same mindset as I am, not that it matters because we’re going to get divorced, we need to, because…well, fuck, Hardy.”
“Oh God, what happened?”
I pause for a moment and then quietly say, “Dad knows.”
“Dad knows what—wait, he knows about you and Sloane?”
“He knows I’m married. I don’t know if he knows that it’s Sloane. But Terrance was talking to Dad about me being married, and apparently Dad was surprised to hear about it. But if he finds out who it is, life is fucking over because you know he’s not going to keep that to himself.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Yeah, so another reason for coming back is to talk to Dad. To have that conversation with him, because I can’t have him blowing up the marriage. Not when we’re so close to making the deal and getting through the wedding. We just need a little bit more time, and I think I can get us that if I come home, talk to him about the lawsuit, and hopefully defuse the situation.”
“You really think you can do that with Dad?”
“I don’t know, but I would at least like to try. Not that I want to look that man in the eye, but in order to squash this, put it behind us, I would be willing to do that, especially if it means saving the relationship Jude has with Sloane.”
“What about your relationship with him?”
I shake my head. “Hers is more important. She is more important.”
“What are you doing?” Sloane says, sitting up in bed, looking all blurry eyed. She glances around. “Did you not sleep here last night?”
“I didn’t sleep,” I say as I stick my leather toiletry bag in my suitcase.
She rubs her eyes and asks, “Why are you packing? Should I be packing?”
“No,” I answer, not wanting to look at her confused expression because if I do, this is going to be so much harder than I want it to be.
From the corner of my eye, I see her sit taller. “Where are you going?”
“Home for a few days.”
“Home,” she shouts as she gets out of bed. I zip up my suitcase, and I’m almost finished when she stops me and forces me to look at her. “What do you mean you’re going home?”
“There are some things I need to resolve, Sloane.”
“With the lawsuit? Let me come with you; I can help.”
I shake my head. “I don’t need your assistance.” I finish zipping up my bag and set it on its wheels.
“Hold on a second,” she says, stepping in again. “You can’t just leave me here.”
“I can. You have a fitting you have to go to for your dress. And you need to remain here in case Sheridan needs anything.”
“But…but we were supposed to do this together. The dance lessons…the club…”
“I know, but you’re ready for that. Plus, you will have my driver if you need to go anywhere.”
“Wow, great, thanks. I’ll have your driver. Seriously, Hudson, you can’t leave me.”
