Not yellow. Yellow is for friendship. She heard Grace’s voice in her head as she remembered helping her choose wedding flowers for Ash’s last wedding.
‘That’s so kind. Um, could you just hold onto them for me? While I pop to the bathroom? Last-minute make-up check, you know...’ She forced a smile, which Ash’s mother returned.
‘Of course. I’ll wait here for you.’
‘Lovely,’ Zoey said weakly. No chance of escaping back out of the front door now, then.
Zoey hurried down the opposite corridor to where she knew Ash would be waiting, hoping there was a bathroom down there somewhere. Preferably one with a window that opened out onto the street.
* * *
‘Ash?’
‘Mum! There you are. We were supposed to start ten minutes ago,’ Ash said as his mother bustled in carrying a bunch of yellow roses.
‘Not that the bride’s here yet,’ his father put in.
‘Yes, she is,’ Julia Carmichael said. ‘That’s what I came to tell you. I saw her ten minutes ago as she came in, and she asked me to hold these for her while she popped to the bathroom. But she never came out!’
Ash’s heart began a slow descent into his stomach. She wouldn’t. Would she?
‘I’d go and check on her but, really, I thought it might be better for you to do it, Ash?’ his mum went on, looking concerned.
‘Definitely better for me to do it,’ he agreed. ‘Wait here. Don’t let them cancel or do anything until I get back. Okay?’
His parents nodded, and Ash stalked off towards the nearest ladies’ bathroom.
He almost wasn’t surprised to see a pair of hot pink high heels discarded by the door. Or the window above the sink pushed as far open as it would go.
Or even the bride, trying to climb out of it.
‘Isn’t this where we started?’ he asked, keeping a tight hold of his temper. ‘With you trying to escape through a window?’
Of course she was running. She was Zoey Hepburn. It was what she did.
Zoey jerked her head around, bashing it on the window frame as she did so. She winced, but didn’t cry out. ‘Ash...’
‘No, don’t even start,’ he snapped as she climbed down from the counter. ‘I know how this song goes—I’ve heard you sing it enough for others in the past, haven’t I? It’s not me; it’s you. As if I didn’t already know that.’
‘Hey,’ Zoey said sharply. ‘Will you give me a chance to explain?’
‘Like you intended to give me a chance to convince you before you climbed out of a window?’ Ash shook his head. ‘I can’t honestly believe that I really thought I was different. That we were going to have some perfect life together. When the truth is I’m just like all the other men you ran out on, aren’t I?’
‘No! Ash—’
He laughed, the sound bitter in his throat. ‘You’re honestly going to deny it? Then tell me, Zoey. Please. How am I different? What makes this any different from any of your other non-weddings?’
‘Because I’m in love with you!’
* * *
The moment the words were out, Zoey wished she could take them back again—could rewind her life, all the way back to that night in the hotel, with another window she couldn’t fit through. She’d have walked out of that cupboard and married David, if it meant she didn’t have to see the look of horror on Ash’s face at her words.
But they were out there now. So he might as well know everything. Maybe it would help him understand—forgive her even, one day.
Maybe he’d realise what a lucky escape they’d had, right here, today.
‘I’m in love with you, and I know you can never love me.’ She sank back to lean against the bathroom counter, holding onto the Formica for added support. ‘Grace was your true love; I get that. And I know you wanted the future you lost with her. But I can’t do it, Ash.’
‘Then why did you say yes when I proposed?’ His voice was low with barely restrained anger. Zoey looked down at her bare toes to avoid seeing the hate in his eyes.
‘Because...oh, because I wanted to be able to give you that. I wanted to be the one to give you your happily-ever-after. Your family, your future. Because I love you, and I wanted you to be happy.’
Was it her imagination, or did he actually flinch when she said the L word?
‘So what changed?’
‘I...’ What was it? One big thing, or too many little things? Was it the way he kissed her goodnight and she always waited to hear him say I love you, and her heart broke a little more when it never came? Or was it her thinking of Grace in the car that morning? Or his father saying ‘different from last time’?
Or maybe it was all just the same, big thing.
Zoey swallowed, hard, and made herself say the words.
‘I realised I can’t spend the rest of my life trying to live up to a ghost, even one I loved as much as Grace. I love you too much, and knowing I’ll never be enough for you would destroy me, in the end. So I’m sorry, but I can’t marry you, Ash.’
And with that she picked up her shoes and, leaving them dangling from her fingers, walked out of the registry office, past Mr and Mrs Carmichael and a confused-looking registrar, and out into the street.
Time to start over. Again.
* * *
Ash stared after her as the bathroom door swung closed. Then, after a moment, he realised he was standing alone in the ladies’ loos, and moved out into the corridor—only to find his parents and the registrar waiting for him.
‘We heard shouting,’ his mother said with an apologetic smile.
‘The wedding’s off,’ Ash replied.
‘Yes, we rather gathered that,’ Arthur said, looking uncomfortable at the outpouring of emotion. Ash imagined he was wishing he was back behind his desk. ‘And why, for that matter.’
His mother placed an arm around his shoulders, even though she had to reach up almost a foot to do it, even in heels. ‘Come on, darling. Let’s take you home—back to Kent with us. Everything will look a lot brighter in the morning, I’m sure.’
Ash let himself be ushered towards the door, his mind still reeling with Zoey’s words.
She loved him. Him, Ash Carmichael.
She wasn’t running because he wasn’t enough for her—or, wait, maybe she was. Because he couldn’t give her what she needed.
Because he wasn’t in love with her.
Except...
‘I have to say, son. A woman with a love and passion like that?’ Arthur shook his head. ‘I’m not sure I could let her just walk away.’ Ash blinked. That might be the most personal thing his father had ever said to him.
And letting her walk away was what every other fiancé had done, wasn’t it? They’d let Zoey walk out of their lives, and lived with the loss.
But he wasn’t like all the others; she’d said so herself.
And now, faced with the prospect of a future without Zoey in it, he realised something else.
This wasn’t about the baby. It wasn’t about recreating the future he’d lost.
That wasn’t why he’d asked Zoey to marry him. Or if it was at the start, it wasn’t now.
Now, he wanted to marry her because of the way she brightened up his life—literally and figuratively. For the way his apartment was suddenly somewhere he wanted to be, now it was filled with her scent and her laugh and her everything in it. For the way she melted against him in bed at night, and he felt as if he’d come home at last. For the way her kiss made the world feel right. For how she made him laugh, or listened to him talk—and how he could listen to her for hours and never be bored.
Because she was his best friend.
And because he was in love with her too. Even if he’d been too much of an blind fool to realise it until now.
Grace would be rolling her eyes so hard right now, calling us both idi
ots.
And she’d be happy for them too, he was sure.
Because he knew now for certain what his happily-ever-after was—and what he hoped Zoey’s was too.
He just had to find a way to make it happen.
Ash stopped suddenly in the doorway to the registry office. ‘Dad? I’m going to need more than the week’s leave I’d planned for the honeymoon. And there’s something else I need that you can help me with too...’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SHE HAD NOWHERE to go. Again.
Zoey hailed a cab easily on the street, then sat in the back, uncertain of where to direct it.
‘I do need an address, miss,’ the cabbie said gently. Clearly he’d clocked the wedding dress and got an idea of how badly her day was going.
‘Right. Yes. Um...’ She gave Ash’s address. All her stuff was still there, apart from anything else. Even if it did feel a bit like returning to the scene of the crime.
The door banged into the wall, the sound echoing around the flat as she walked in, alone. Her cheeks were wet, she realised as she brushed the tears away. She’d probably been crying ever since she’d left the registry office, and just not noticed.
She had a feeling there were a lot more tears to come.
Would Ash come back to the flat too? She thought not. He’d probably be whisked off by his parents for some TLC. And to give her a chance to get out of the flat. One of them would probably be here with an eviction notice before tomorrow.
Two suitcases leant against the wall by the door, packed and ready for the honeymoon they’d never take now. Ignoring them, Zoey moved through the flat like a ghost, drifting aimlessly down the hallway to the bedroom she’d not used since the night Ash had cooked her dinner and taken her to bed.
Her heart clenched as she passed the nursery, its sunny yellow too happy for her mood.
Her child would never sleep there now, probably. She had no idea where they would sleep, but she’d figure it out.
Because this wasn’t like every other time she’d walked out on a wedding. This time, there were more consequences than moving out of a flat or giving back a ring.
She was still pregnant with Ash’s baby, even if she hadn’t married him. She couldn’t just cut him out of her life the way she had all the others.
They had to find a way to move forward together, but apart. And that was a hell of a lot harder, she suspected.
But tomorrow. She’d figure it all out tomorrow.
Today, she just wanted to cry and sleep.
Reaching her bedroom, she flopped onto the bed face first and let the tears fall in earnest.
Tomorrow she’d be an adult again.
Today, her heart was too broken.
* * *
The sound of the door buzzer woke her, hours later, and she stumbled to it blearily.
‘Hello?’
‘Hello, Miss Hepburn. I’m here to take you to the airport. If you could just buzz me in, I’ll come collect the bags.’ It was the same driver from earlier, she realised, the one who’d taken her to the wedding. Ash must not have cancelled the transfer for their honeymoon, afterwards.
‘Oh, no, there’s no need. We’re not going away after all.’
‘Miss Hepburn, Mr Carmichael called me twenty minutes ago and asked me to collect you and your bags and take you to the airport. So if you could just buzz me in?’
Twenty minutes ago? Zoey leant against the buzzer as she checked her phone. One message.
Zoey, get in the car. We need to talk. A
Well. She had no idea what was going on, but Ash was right about one thing. They definitely needed to talk.
‘Guess I’d better get changed then,’ she said.
Apparently adulting started today, after all.
* * *
Ash paced the main open-plan living space of the villa, from the wide glass bifold doors that led out to the sea and back to the floor-to-ceiling windows on the other side, looking out over the beach. And then he did it again. And again.
When would she get there?
At least he knew she was coming; he’d had confirmation of take-off and, having made it all the way out to the Indian Ocean, he couldn’t imagine her turning back again.
But she wasn’t there yet. Hence the pacing.
He’d known that if they’d flown out there together, they’d have argued. As much as he wanted to fix things, Ash knew himself well enough to know he needed time to think his way through everything rationally—and Zoey probably did too. So he’d taken a commercial flight out, and asked his father to arrange the charter for Zoey and their bags.
Which meant now he had to wait.
The villa was almost unrecognisable from the place they’d stayed that fateful night. The renovations had been completed at last, and the whole place was the pinnacle of the luxury travel experience Carmichael’s sought to provide. From the designer seating to the carefully selected palette of colours, everything screamed expensive—and, more importantly, the best.
Ash just hoped Zoey would understand what he was trying to do by bringing her here.
He wanted to start again. To give them a fresh chance to get this right. Whatever this turned out to be.
Ash knew what he wanted, what dreams kept him awake at night. But he also knew that the decision had to be Zoey’s. If she wanted to run still, he wouldn’t try to keep her.
But if there was a chance she really could want the same life together that he did...well, he had to take it.
As his pacing reached the glass doors again, he saw something in the distance, kicking up spray from the waves. A small motor boat, racing closer through the surf.
And there, right at the front, looking out towards him, was Zoey—her hair streaming back from her face, her sundress blown tight against her by the air current.
Ash opened the doors and headed out onto the jetty to greet her, his eyes greedily drinking in every sight of her, even as the boat bobbed closer.
Was that a small bump, shown off by the thin fabric of her sundress? He thought it might be, and the realisation filled him with a warmth and excitement he barely recognised.
He was going to be a father. Whatever else happened between them, whatever the future held, that much was still true.
And yes, he was terrified of it being torn away from him again—and, given Zoey’s history, he’d be an idiot not to acknowledge the flight risk.
But she’d said ‘I love you’ and he believed her.
Which was why he had to give this his best shot.
The motor boat slowed and docked alongside the jetty, the driver hopping out to tie it up securely. Ash stepped forward and offered Zoey his hand to help her off the boat. She looked at him for a moment before taking it, and he wished more than anything that he could read her mind right then.
‘You came,’ he said.
She gave him a funny half smile. ‘Seemed rude not to, really. Besides, I have a new rule. I came up with it on the plane. No more running away from things, however scary they are.’
Something tightened in Ash’s chest. ‘Good. Because I think we have a lot to talk about.’
* * *
It felt so strange, sitting inside such a high-end luxury villa—which was somehow also the shell of a building they’d spent the night in together.
‘How was your journey?’ Ash asked as he fussed around her—taking her bags, fetching her a drink of juice, finding more cushions for the sofa.
‘Let’s just say that it’s a good job the morning sickness really did finally pass at twelve weeks.’ She shuddered, trying to imagine that flight with the constant nausea that had accompanied her through the pregnancy so far.
Ash froze, halfway through plumping a pillow. ‘I didn’t even think about that. I should have done. I shouldn’t have asked you to fly all this way when you’re p
regnant. I just—’
‘Ash.’ She placed a hand over his and pulled him to sit down next to her on the sofa. ‘I know why you wanted me to come out here.’
‘You do?’ He sounded surprised.
Zoey smiled. ‘Of course I do.’ She’d had a lengthy flight alone to think about it, on one of the Carmichael’s private planes. ‘It’s where it all started for us. And if we want to move forward as parents and friends, we have to go back and fix everything we got wrong between here and there.’
She should have known that Ash wouldn’t give up their friendship, just because she was an idiot. And it wasn’t as if he’d been in love with her anyway, so leaving him at the altar wouldn’t have broken his heart or anything.
They could fix this. They might never be together again, and that hurt. But at least she knew they’d make things right for their child.
‘Yeah, I guess that’s pretty much it,’ Ash admitted. ‘So, where do we start?’
Zoey took a deep breath. She’d practised what she wanted to say on the plane, over and over. But saying it to his face, when he was watching her so carefully, felt like a whole different challenge.
‘With an apology. And an explanation.’
‘I think you said everything you needed to at the registry office,’ Ash said. ‘Well, apart from the apology.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Zoey said automatically. ‘I should have talked to you, not run.’
‘You should. But I’m sorry too.’
‘What for? I was the one who tried to escape through a window. Again.’
‘But I was the one who railroaded you into marriage. I should have known better.’ Ash shook his head. ‘I knew you were still looking for your true love, your happy ending. And as far as you were concerned I was asking you to give up all that to marry me.’
‘I guess,’ Zoey said, a large lump forming in her throat. She forced the words out around it. ‘You’re right—all I’ve ever wanted was a loving, happy marriage and maybe a family, one day. I wanted to do it all right—the way my parents didn’t. I wanted what you and Grace had—and you already told me you couldn’t give me that.’
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