Taking a step forward, I wring my hands together, at a loss of what to say or do, but I know I need to say something. “Harley, I—”

“Don’t.” He stops me, holding a hand up to silence my stammered words. “Just don’t, Murph. You’ve done enough.”

Just when I think he’s going to continue, going to tell me whatever is on his mind, he doesn’t say anything at all. Instead, he simply shakes his head before turning and walking toward his truck. And I’m stuck in one place, unable to move as my emotions get the better of me. The roaring engine of his truck comes to life, echoing throughout the silence, causing me to jump. And, as a solitary tear slides down over my heated cheek, I watch as he pulls away from the curb, the rumbling of the V8 fading to nothing as he drives farther and farther away.

And, all alone right there on the front lawn, in the silence of the night, I come to a realization, one I wish I’d figured out a long, long time ago: Nash was never the one that got away because he was never the one. It’s been Harley all along, and I think I might have just lost him.

Chapter 31

I took the cake to the country club early. So early, in fact, the sun hadn’t even finished rising for the day. I didn’t want to risk seeing anyone. Maybe I was being a coward, but I couldn’t bear to show my face. Not after last night. And I’m so glad I succeeded in avoiding everyone, especially after the text message I received from Nash when I’d returned to the store.

Nash: Don’t bother coming to my wedding.

I stared at the words on the illuminated screen for so long my eyes began to burn, blurring from the unshed tears pooling within them. But, I must say it didn’t surprise me to receive such a message. I admitted to trying to poison his fiancée. I admitted to intentionally giving her a black eye. I admitted every last shameful detail of what I’ve done over the last week. He’s right to not want me around. But that doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

So, while I otherwise would’ve been arguing with my own reflection and doubting every single dress I owned, instead, I’m enjoying my second glass of Tito’s and cranberry before noon while sitting on the island counter at the back of the bakery, all alone, staring at the wall straight ahead while trying so hard to push my own self-loathing thoughts to the back of my mind. Trying so hard to dispel my own shame with another sip of vodka. But it’s no use. All I keep thinking of is all the bad I’ve done.

Don’t bother coming to my wedding.

I shake my head as Nash’s words flash in my mind. I finish what’s left of my cocktail, hoping somehow the alcohol will help to ease my self-inflicted pain. But it doesn’t. Sure, it numbs it a little, but the pain and the shame is still there, taunting me.