S
carlett O’Hara was smart, but just when it seemed she had it all figured out, she couldn’t stop herself from stupidly sabotaging her own happy ending.
It turns out that I was more like her than I realized.
That night in the cheap roadside lodge when I discovered that Dev truly loved me was the beginning of what would be the best summer of my life, full of stolen kisses and passion-filled nights. We offered ourselves to each other—mind, soul and body—freely, without reservation.
But something still irked me. Why marriage now, and so young?
Regardless, I decided that nothing would ever get me to take his ring off my finger. Touching the hard, smooth edges served as a reminder that I wasn’t dreaming this all up. Belonging to Dev was my new blissful reality.
After the snowed melted the next day, we drove toward Texas, but I could tell he sensed my dread.
I didn’t want to go back.
I wasn’t finished mourning my father, and returning to the home in which he raised me was too much.
“The east coast is beautiful right now, Scarlett,” he said, smiling with a bit of mischief in his dark eyes.
A green and white sign on the highway read,
Welcome to Texas
. I didn’t have to ponder it for another second.
“Let’s go.”
He grabbed my hand, his thumb passing lightly over the engagement ring—maybe his reminder also that this was not dream—and kept driving. I was sure a part of him didn’t want to go home either.
In his New York apartment, we dreamed and schemed beneath his crisp, clean gray sheets at night. And we spent the days exploring the hidden secrets of his city, something he took great pleasure in, almost like he was introducing me to a secret lover.
During one long walk through the financial district, we stopped in front of a tall, mirrored skyscraper—the place he would start working as an investment banker in just a week’s time. A large sign loomed above us.
Franklin Bank
.
“So, are you ready to begin your career as a soulless money-grubbing banker in Manhattan?” I teased him as I tried to estimate the number of floors towering above us. They seemed to disappear into the clear summer sky above. Could there be fifty? A hundred? It was nothing I had ever seen in Fairview, Texas.
“You know, if I have you here with me, I’m in no danger of that happening. Your goodness will balance out my unbridled greed.”
“Ah, so together we’ll be…morally mediocre?”
He laughed, but then his face became serious. He put his arms around my waist and pulled me to him.
I knew what was coming.
“Stay with me, Scarlett. We’ll get married and you can go to school in New York. I know you’re young, but I can’t live without you. I need you here.”
This wasn’t the first time he broached the subject. He knew I had a full scholarship to the University of Washington in Seattle and I was set to move there in the fall.
I wanted to say yes. I wanted to stay with him. But a part of me didn’t trust the happiness laid out in front of me on a silver platter. It was too easy. Too perfect.
“Dev, this is something I worked for my whole life. It wouldn’t be the same if you…just took care of everything. I want to stand on my own two feet. I want to do this on my own. I
need
to do this on my own.”
I was at the precipice of being independent and fulfilling the dreams that I had carefully crafted since I was 10. I convinced myself that this opportunity was too hard-won to let go so easily.
He had asked me to stay with him every day until he saw me off at the airport for my trip home. He had the darkest pain in his eyes when I kissed him goodbye.
“You can cancel your flight. It’s not too late. Please stay with me, Scarlett. I need you…more than you know.”
“You’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.” I tried to console him. Why did he look so tortured? I was just a flight away, five hours max.
He grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me close.
“Whatever happens to us—
to me
— promise you’ll…find me. Promise you won’t give up on me?”
His hands squeezed my arms a little too hard, bordering on painful, and the intensity in his voice scared me.
He’s being crazy,
I told myself.
I gave him my most lighthearted and reassuring smile.
“Give up on you? Are you planning on getting lost in the Amazon or something?”
He didn’t laugh.
“Promise me, Scarlett.”
“I promise.”
I should have stayed.
***
Want more?
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My Best Friend’s Brother
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Kennedy Claire lives with her husband and five children in San Antonio, Texas. She loves a good cup of French pressed coffee, home-improvement projects that don’t involve hand-held sanders (don’t ask), and writing about herself in the third person. She spends her days chasing sheep and milking cows in between writing contemporary romance novels aimed to brighten up her readers’ days and add a little steam to their nights. You can visit her at
www.Kennedy-Claire.com
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