Page 32 of Roundabout

I shake my head.

“Why? What’d you have to give up?”

My gaze falls to my hands gripping my phone, and I whisper, “Everything.” I’m officially broke. Broker than broke. All of my accounts, checking, savings, everything, it’s all been wiped.

The front door to Marshall’s firm opens, and I blink long and hard before turning my head over my shoulder to watch Nora strut outside and over to her light-blue Tercel.

Her hand on the driver’s side handle, she takes in the scene, and asks with way too much enthusiasm, “Should we reschedule?”

“No. I’ll follow you there now,” I tell her.

“Wow,” Coty mocks. “Looks like you proved your mom right.”

Switching my attention back to Coty, I find him wearing the same expression he had when he arrived—eyes narrowed, jaw clenching, elbows bowed.

“How so?”

“You did exactly what she said you’d do. You chose yourself.”

When did she tell him that?

I straighten, solidifying my spine. “I chose everyone but myself. I chose the girls, and even though you’re too upset to see it right now, I chose you, too.”

There’s no way Coty would’ve approved of us doing anything to jeopardize the wedding, not so close to it, and I needed my money—every dollar—to give Nora. I would’ve handed over anything to get the girls out of her care, which she knew and so she went for it, all of it. Coty has to understand that. If this was any other time, without a wedding on the line, he would’ve been sitting next to me in that conference room today. He would’ve been writing a similar check but from his own account because Coty’s generosity knows no bounds. He’d give someone the shirt off his back. He’d give up anything to help someone else…except me.

That’s why I didn’t put him in the position to even consider it.

“How did you choose me?”

“Because I knew. I knew what it would come down to and I knew you wouldn’t be able to decide.”

“Decide between what? Getting the girls back or getting married? Were those the choices?”

“Not exactly. We can still—”

“No, we can’t.” He gestures to my hands. “You didn’t choose me then, and you didn’t choose me now.”

I glance down, seeing what he sees—my bare hands—then rush forward, saying, “I couldn’t—”

He backs away, his own hands up like he doesn’t want me near him. “The wedding is off.”

“Coty. It’s—”

Nora’s honking prevents me from saying anything more.

Beckett and Marc both throw her dirty looks, muttering under their breath as they start to roll their bikes out of her way.

As soon as her path’s clear, she’s leaving, and I don’t trust her to wait for me. God knows what would happen if I let her out of my sight.

Shit. I have to go.

“I’m sorry,” I mouth to Coty before sprinting over to my Jeep and getting in. Gripping the steering wheel as tight as I can, I shake my upper half, gritting my teeth to keep the scream in. He called it off. He called it off. Coty doesn’t want to marry me anymore. Does he want to be with me at all?

A panic so chaotic and consuming claws its way up my ribs, into my throat, then bursts from my mouth on a hysterical sob.

I don’t even bother backing up and going through the parking lot. I just shift into Drive, then gun it up and over the parking block, through the landscaping, across the sidewalk, and on to the open road.

Coty’s words follow me the entire way to Nora’s. “You didn’t choose me then, and you didn’t choose me now.”