Reverse (The Bittersweet Symphony Duet, #2)

by Kate Stewart

Furious, even though I’ve given myself ample time to cool off, I paint my lips a glossy nude and slide into a form-fitting, shimmering white V-neck dress. The cut bares inches of my midriff, connected only by tiny gold loops on each side. The deep cut also gives ample glimpses of side-boob while remaining classy in fit, hanging a few inches above mid-thigh. It’s my ‘dressed to kill’ dress, and right now, there’s a real possibility of that turn of phrase becoming a reality.

“Sure, you aren’t. But just know, the second you step out of that door, we’ll both be settling for whatever’s out there after. At least I know I fucking will.”

“Intelligent men don’t let life-changing women pass them by without trying to grasp onto them with both hands. I don’t need endless months to figure out you’re that woman for me. I’m not most men, Natalie. I know exactly what I don’t want, and it’s everything outside of that door. What I do want is standing in front of me, and the idea of letting her walk away from me a second time is fucking eating me alive.”

Woow

“And started a goddamn fling with the one human being on earth I would forbid you to see?”

“I’m not the man to take the underhanded route, Reid. That’s more your fucking specialty, isn’t it?”

“So now, sweetheart, I guess the question you couldn’t bring yourself to ask me is, if I ever feel like your father settled for me? Never. But if the one person who has lain witness to our marriage day-to-day isn’t convinced, why should I be?”

“the harder you make it for her to believe that I come in second.”

“No, you did, a major one, but not the mistake you think you made. He’s figured it out already. If you don’t come fix this right the fuck now, you’re going to damage your relationship in a way that’s irreparable. His love for you has made him too weak to fucking fight for himself. It’s never going to be right, Natalie, you know that. You’ll never have a fair shot together, but not because of your baggage—and it might not ever be okay, but neither of your lives are going to be bearable if you throw this away. We all know it. Even your fucking selfish parents know it. Yet they go to sleep at night, content with their own fucking choices. Don’t forget, after they successfully separate you, they’ll have each other.” More tears

Instead of cowering away, I force myself to walk the eight or so feet toward the door as Benji ushers the woman away without so much as glancing back at me. Stopping at the threshold of the door where Easton leans against the jamb, I turn my head as the landmine goes off. Boom. Even if the scenario’s imagined, this pain is the worst I’ve ever felt in my twenty-three years on earth. His gaze travels from the tip of my sweaty forehead to my throbbing pinched toes before he turns and begins striding away. “You’re not going to say a word to me?” I call to his back. Easton stops before whipping his head back in my direction. “Seems like a nice guy. Good for you, Beauty. I’m sure Daddy approves.”

“Us doesn’t exist anymore. You made it so,” he says, closing in behind me, his warmth unbearably absent. Lifting his hand, he slowly slides his fingers along the number on my spine. My heart lurches against my ribcage, begging to be released. Swallowing, I free myself to love him without abandon in these seconds. “Easton, I can’t go on like this, if you won’t talk—” “You were a temporary high…and now you’re a stain.” He palms his chest, “That’s what you are to me now, Natalie, a fucking stain.” I turn and grip his wrist, glaring up at him. “You don’t get to take it back, not any of it,” I shake my head. “You don’t get to will your past with me away.”

“You see, you got the vows twisted, my beautiful wife. You were supposed to forsake all others for

Turning it back toward me, it’s when I note the witness signature, signed by Nate himself, that I allow the darkness to consume me.

anywhere else. My supernova just passed me by.

“You should know—you need to know—you were just as sacred to me, even if I didn’t prove it when you demanded it of me.” Her confessions slap me, as does the wind, while the bolts keeping my heart on lockdown threaten to come loose.

“Of course, you’re sorry. God forbid, you have one selfish fucking moment where the whole of your sentiments can ring true.” “I’m all too painfully aware of the mistakes I’ve made, Easton. I wanted to tell you last night, but you didn’t want to hear me.” He tosses back

Twin tears spill from my eyes which remain bolted on Easton.

and you should know the only thing I’ve ever despised about you, Elliot Easton Crowne, is your last fucking name.”

“Leave it to me to quit smoking on an overseas trip where my wife assured me some witch doctor’s herbs will help curb it.”

“Still,” he says, “it was a stroke of genius to throw them in the blender in Mexico.”