“Whitney, no. You can’t—” He reaches out to grasp my wrist, but I snatch it back.

“I’m sorry. You should take your mom home. Spend time with your family. That’s what matters. Not me.”

He reaches for me again, but I shake off his hold and turn to walk away, trying to keep my head high as my tears fall faster and faster. Lincoln calls out my name and I break into a run, not stopping until I’m in my room with both doors locked.

I drop onto the sofa and curl into a ball. I knew I shouldn’t have come back to Gable. I knew I shouldn’t have ever looked at Lincoln Riscoff again. I knew I shouldn’t let myself imagine any kind of happily ever after. All I’ve done is destroy more lives.

But I’m done with that. I’m done with all of it.

Forty-Four

Lincoln

As I stare in the direction Whitney ran, my heart cracks open in my chest.

“You have your answer. She doesn’t want you, Lincoln. She’s never actually wanted you. It’s always been about what you could do for her.”

I whip around to face my mother. “You don’t know that.”

“Then why did she marry that boy? Because she knew he was the heir, and she thought he’d inherit everything. She never loved you. She never wanted you. If she did, she would’ve walked away from him and stayed with you, even if it meant you got nothing. But she didn’t. Those Gable whores only want the man that comes with the money. Why do you think she came back now?”

My mother’s poisonous words seep into the part of me that always wondered how Whitney could have walked down the aisle to another man if she loved me.

“Are you willing to throw away your family for someone like that?”

With every jab, my mother thinks she’s turning me to her way of thinking, but all she’s doing is making me question her.

“What do you mean she would’ve stayed, even though she knew it would mean I inherited nothing if I chose her?”

My mother lifts her chin but doesn’t answer.

“You got to her then years ago, didn’t you? What did you say to her, Mother?”

Her jaw tightens, and I know my suspicions are right. My mother did something to push Whitney down the aisle to Rango, and I need to know exactly what the hell she did.

“Mother, you’ll answer my question, or I’ll make sure Commodore cuts you off without a dime.”

Instead of replying, my mother turns on her heel and stalks down the hall.

Oh, fuck no. I’m going to get my answers.

But first—I need to talk to Whitney.

Forty-Five

Whitney

The past

Cricket wouldn’t take no for an answer this time. She was determined to get me out of the house and back into the land of the living. Finally, she resorted to playing dirty—she bribed me with passion-fruit gelato from Tutti Frutti, and the fact that the owner told her she was almost out and wouldn’t be making more for months.