Three months after we first met, he told me he was falling in love with me. He’d held my hand over dinner, and said that no woman had ever made him feel like all his dreams and goals were finally within reach.
It was a beautiful sentiment. I’d gotten caught up in the moment, and it was easy to fall for him. Easier still after more than four years of isolation and loneliness since my old life was wrenched away from me in the blink of an eye.
Being with Alex Royston felt like I was getting a small part of my life back.
I guess I just never expected things to move so fast. I never believed I would be enough to hold his attention. Not long-term. Is that self-hatred of some kind? Self-sabotage? Self-something-not-so-nice, at the very least.
Maybe that’s why I shared the first secret when I told him my real name—because I thought it would bring down the whole house of cards. I wasn’t Emily Kunis. I was Camila Ferrara. And I had lied to him for as long as we’d known each other.
I was so sure he’d run in the other direction. But he stood his ground. Insisted he still wanted to marry me. Not just that, he swore he would give me the protection that was currently provided by the United States Marshals Service. He was rich and powerful and he could do what he said.
He could keep me safe.
We could move back to the States.
We could be happy.
After that, how could I have turned him down? More to the point—how could I risk all of that by telling him about Jo? No, it wasn’t worth it. That secret would stay buried until I could figure out what to do next.
“I think he does love me,” I say into the long silence.
“Okay then. So he’ll understand.”
But I’m not so sure.
Alex has never been anything but amazing with me. But I know he has a temper. I know he has high standards. I know he values loyalty above all else.
I’ve eavesdropped on enough of his business calls to understand that he has some darkness in him. He’s never shown it to me, but I know it’s there. I fear what will happen if I drag it to the surface.
Being in the Witness Protection Program is one thing.
Having a secret daughter is another.
“Just asking here, so feel free to ignore me,” Bree says, “but what happened? I thought you were going to tell him last week.”
“I chickened out,” I admit. “I just kept thinking about all the other questions I’ll be forced to answer.”
“I know, honey. It’s hard.”
“He’s going to want to know who her father is, Bree.”
“That secret you need to take to your grave,” she says immediately. “You know that, right? He can’t ever know. No one can.”
I nod, then I realize that Bree can’t see me. “I know,” I say. “But it means another lie.”
“A necessary one.”
“Yeah, a necessary one,” I repeat, but it doesn’t lessen my guilt. “Bree?”
“Yes, love?”
“You don’t think I’m making a mistake, do you?”
She hesitates for a moment, and I wish more than anything that she were with me now. I need a Bree hug. No one loves you like a sister. “Does it feel like a mistake?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe sometimes. Maybe not.”
I smile sadly. “I wish you could be here today. I wish you were all here.”
“I know. I can’t believe my baby sister is getting married and I won’t be there.”
“Have you spoken to Mom and Dad recently?” I ask.
“Last weekend. They’re doing good. Same as always.”
“Have they got used to the new neighbors yet?”
“Mr. Agrawal fixed the stove for Mom last week, so that’s changed their opinion a little. Apparently, Indian people are just like us, it turns out.”
I roll my eyes. “Dear God.”
“Don’t worry. I think they’re inching towards the twenty-first century. Just give them time. They asked about you, by the way. You need to call them more often.”
“I resolve to do exactly that every month.”
“Then what happens?”
“I speak to them and realize why it was a bad idea.”
Bree bursts out laughing. “Fair enough.”
“I’ll give them a call when we’re back in the States,” I say, letting the tentative hope spread through me for one self-indulgent moment. “Maybe we can even visit them at some point.”
“One step at a time, baby sister. Focus on you today. You deserve it.”
“No promises, but I’ll do my best. I have to say goodbye now,” I tell her. “Time to start getting dressed.”
“You won’t be alone though, right?” she asks. “Eric will be there?”
“He needed special permission. But yes, he will be there.”
“And Andrew?”
I wrinkle my nose with distaste. “Urgh… Andrew.”
Bree laughs. “So you still haven’t warmed to him, huh?”
“Not by a long shot,” I reply. “He’s just so cold and brusque with me. But whatever. Once I’m married, I won’t have to deal with him anymore.”
“Why did Eric need special permission, by the way?” Bree asks, with the exact amount of irritation that I feel.
“Probably for the same reason they removed him as my handler and replaced him with Andrew. They feel that he’s too close to my case.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
I shrug. “Who knows? Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. Now that Andrew’s taking over my security and I’m officially going to be leaving the Witness Protection Program, they can’t exactly tell me who I can and can’t keep in touch with.”
“I’ll drink to that,” she mutters.
I laugh, glancing towards the clock. “It’s a little earlier in your part of the world to be drinking, Bree. And speaking of time…”
“Right, of course. You have to go.” She sounds flustered and nervous now.
“Kiss Jo for me,” I say.
“Always do.”
“Tell her I love her and that I’ll call her tonight.”
“Will do.”
“And hopefully, I’ll see you all soon.”
Bree’s holding her breath, just like I am. “I wish you all the luck in the world, little sister. I love you.”
I smile. “You know, I may be marrying Alex today—but you’re always going to be my soulmate.”
“I better be,” she laughs. “You’re stuck with me, Cami. For better or for worse.”
We hang up. The raging silence of my life rushes up to meet me.
I’ve talked to Bree too long. Now, I’ll have to hustle to make it on time. The car will be here to pick me up in half an hour. Better get started.
I shrug out of my fluffy white robe and slip on the dress. It’s undeniably beautiful, and yet I’m extremely uncomfortable in it.
But then, I was never going to be comfortable today.
The hemline falls to my knees, the detailing is subtle and elegant. We’re just going to a courthouse, per Alex’s insistence, but the little girl in me still clung to the idea of getting married in a gorgeous white dress. Who cares if I’m overdressed?
It takes me a few frenzied minutes to dress and put my makeup on. I’ve just slipped into the brand-new pair of silver pumps that Alex brought for me when I get a call from the front desk.
“The car’s here, ma’am.”
“I’ll be right down.”
I walk down, conscious of the fact that I’m completely alone. I console myself with the knowledge that Eric will be at the courthouse, waiting to walk me in.