Em sucked in her breath. "Belle, we thought you were avoiding us."
Next time she'd start slower, and she'd never again date a guy she needed to fix. She never should have asked Colt out years ago.
She sat on the bar stool and faked a smile. "How could I ignore the texts that offered to buy me a free beer?"
The intake of breath rang in her ears. Then Em said, "Come with us to Miami."
No. Belle lifted her head and waved at the bartender. "I don't do Christmas."
She ordered the drink and turned to her friends. "I'll be fine here."
"You'll be alone."
Another voice piped in from behind Emily's. "Belle, you were both our friends."
James Harrington handed the bartender money as he slipped the beer in front of Belle.
She licked her lips. "We're both still your friends. It's just that he's marrying someone else."
"Belle, we all knew he loved and lost his Victoria," James said. "He called out her name countless times in the sandbox."
Belle's entire body froze. It was true. At night, when Colt slept, he had called out for Victoria. He had never said her name. She had lived with that for years, and had only thought she helped his broken heart.
Perhaps it was time to be an adult. If she wanted to be sure that she could live without Colt, then she should see this through to the end. A plan came to her. The plane ticket for the wedding was in her pocketbook. Miami was warm, sunny, and perhaps with friends nearby, she could be a better person. She chugged her beer.
"You, Em, and the others will have my back if I go with you?"
"Of course." James patted her on the back and took the seat next to her.
She lifted her glass as she sucked in her breath. "Even if I break down into tears and need someone to get me a tissue?"
"You never cry, Belle. You're still a Marine and wouldn't break down like that."
Belle stopped and stared at herself in the mirror behind the bar. Her frizzy brown hair and plain Jane face would make someone like Colt choose someone else. Perhaps her stepmother was right that she was too masculine.
She hid her chin, which trembled with another gulp. She'd never wanted to be a pretty face with nothing in between her ears. She swallowed. "I will try not to cry. I don't hate him, and I don't want anyone who doesn't love me back. I should go to this wedding and make my peace."
"This is last minute. Are you sure?"
She took a deep breath and gulped her beer. "Maybe it will be healthy for me. Cleansing almost, so I can let go."
Now her glass was empty. If she intended to catch the eight in the morning flight, she needed to pack her bags.
Em placed her hand on Belle's shoulder as she stood from her barstool. "What aren't you telling me, Belle?"
"I'm going home to pack. My flight is early."
"You already had a ticket."
"Yeah. I'll see everyone later."
She hugged all her friends and then rushed from the building. A few minutes later, she climbed the steps to her apartment and realized she still didn't have any pictures on the wall.
Anyone who came here would assume she was a drifter or newly out of the Marines. In reality, she just hadn't had the time or motivation to shop.
Home and decorating could wait. She went to her closet and tugged out her folded duffel. Then she froze and stared through the park and back toward the Capitol Building. It illuminated her bedroom, and she didn't need to turn on the lights.
Change needed to happen. She hugged her stomach and shook on her feet. "I loved Colt. He loved Victoria. Please make the pain stop, okay? I don't want to become numb and I feel sad. Why wasn’t I enough? What did I do to make you hate me this much? I always tried to do the right thing, so why punish me?"
Praying wasn’t her thing. Action was and her father always said ‘God helps those who help themselves.’ If she let Colt go, then she’d be open to whatever or whoever was next. Or she’d get a cat from the shelter. She blinked, wiped her eyes, and picked up her bag.
A second later, she grabbed her hairbrush and accessories. Then she went to her nightstand and took her mother's picture, which had been thrown down but was otherwise intact. Belle had never gone anywhere without her mother and wouldn't start now. Finally she went to the closet and picked up her small supply of civilian summer outfits.
Now she was packed. She rifled through the pocketbook but couldn't find that invitation. Somewhere she must have lost it. She shrugged. At least she had the plane ticket. Done, she stormed to the door.
"God, you and I both know that I will never be the bride or girlish, but please help me stay strong. I have to be happy for everyone else."
Dawn peeked through the air. She hadn't slept at all. Perhaps on the plane she'd close her eyes and not have a rush of heart palpitations every few minutes.
She unlocked the front door, and her nerves stood on edge. Nothing stirred outside. She rubbed her temples and told herself she'd be fine.
She'd never be sweet or the kind of the girl that a guy threw everything away for. She straightened her spine. She took care of herself. She was always fine with anything that was thrown in her way. She used a phone app and called a car to pick her up.
As she turned off the lights, she continued her conversation with God. "I'm too closed off to ever truly fall in love. We both know that."
She locked the door behind her and ran down the stairs as fast as she could. Miami was warm, and the wedding invitation for tomorrow meant she'd be too busy to worry about herself or feel sorry that she was no longer the bride. She pocketed her phone. Everything was perfect.
Chapter Two
The Miami skyline outlined the back of Peter Morgan’s mansion as the waters of the Intracoastal Waterway lapped against his yacht. Tonight he wouldn't be able to enjoy his privacy. The tropical breeze brushed against his suit as he locked his front door. Peter Morgan slipped into the backseat of his personal town car, complete with his driver in the front seat.
He checked his phone and work emails. Outside, they passed other neighbors on Starr Island. The white lights that flashed at the bottom of the palm trees next door to his home never indicated Christmas to Peter Morgan. He could have been anywhere in the world right now, and ensured he successfully moved Morgan Enterprises to the top of the next big field, but his family reminded him to stay here.
John Morgan, his brother, chose to live in a more residential area, and his party meant people had more places to park without the valet service.
A few minutes later, Peter Morgan knocked on his brother John’s door and held a gift basket in his hand. No one should ask him what it was, because he had no idea. His secretary had told him, but he forgot. Since his siblings, John and Victoria, had returned to his life, Peter's heart seemed to have begun beating again. He'd do what was best for them.
Vicki opened the door and hugged him. "We're happy you're here."