by Emelia Blair
Mr. Mason looked from Philip to me, regret and anger in his eyes, and then he lowered his head, his voice rough, “We are both sorry, Charlotte.”
As they moved away, I stared at the empty room.
Feeling Philip’s arm around my waist, his chest to my back, I couldn’t bear it. And I pulled away, stumbling out through the side door.
He didn’t try to stop me, and I was glad for that.
I didn’t want to think of Erik right now.
I didn’t want to think at all, right now.
I stood at the entrance of the bride’s dressing room, and I recalled walking out of here, so thrilled. Now, it just seemed like a distant memory.
Tearing the small crown of flowers from my head, I tossed them to the ground.
My dress was next, and I struggled to undo the zip when I heard the click of the lock before a pair of large hands took the zipper and moved it down.
I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.
I didn’t care that he was in the room.
I let the dress pool around my feet and clad only in my underwear and bra, I frantically start looking around the room for the clothes I had brought with me when I had arrived.
Philip was as silent as a ghost, “What do you need?”
“M-My dress. Brown. It’s brown.” My voice was shaking so badly that I didn’t know what to do.
He handed me the dress and I slid into it.
Then, I stood there, blindly, not knowing what to do next.
“Here,” Philip grasped my hand and took me to the seat in front of the vanity and forced me into it, “Drink.”
A small flask appeared in his hands and he thrust it into mine, “This will help. Drink.”
I obeyed.
The burning liquid rushed down my throat, making me gasp.
He took the flask back from me, and on hearing the knock on the door, he opened it to let a pale-faced Agatha and the priest in.
The priest looked worried as he handed me some documents, “Are you sure about this, child?”
I swallowed and nodded.
He sighed, “Sign here then. And on the next page.”
I didn’t know what I was signing but my hand moved on its own accord.
I could have been signing my death certificate at that moment and I wouldn’t have cared.
Philip also signed the papers and then told the Agatha, “Have the marriage announced in the papers immediately. Handle this.”
Maybe that was the point where I started coming out of my shock.
“W-what?” I asked, my voice hoarse. “What are you doing?”
Philip gave me a cool look, “Teaching Erik Mason a lesson he won’t be forgetting anytime soon.”
I wanted to say something, but I was still coming to terms with what had happened and not thinking straight. My eyes were on Philip as he murmured something to Agatha.
He had grown more mature.
It was in the way he carried himself.
His dirty blond hair was slicked back and his blue eyes, which used to be so wild and carefree, were now serious and angry. Agatha never told me he was coming to my wedding. I hadn’t even invited him.
And yet, here he was.
Swooping in, in the same manner he used to do when we were kids, taking charge of a situation, shielding me at no matter the cost to him.
“No.”
Everybody froze and turned to look at me.
Good God, I had gone and married the man! What had I done?!
I stood up, my fists clenched at Philip’s raised brow, “No. You can’t do this. Whatever you’re doing, just stop it.”
Philip smiled at me, a smile that I recognized, and I knew in that moment that I had just lost this argument.
“It’s already done.”
The priest walked out, and Agatha followed him, leaving the two of us alone in the room.
Philip took off his coat and slung it over the coat rack, then tucked his hands in his pockets, studying me.
“What did you do?” I asked, more quietly now.
He didn’t so much as blink, “He fucked with a McCoy. That’s never a wise move.”
I took a startled step back, “I’m not part of your family, Philip. You didn’t have to-“
He crossed the distance between us in two strides till he was towering over me and I had to tilt my head back to look at him, “You have always been part of our family, Charlotte.”
His smirk was my undoing, “And now, it’s official.”
I pushed against his chest in a spurt of anger, “You can’t just marry me!”
The words tore out of my throat, accusatory, as if I had not been part of this.
I hated how he stood there so cool and composed. Like my life hadn’t just shattered before his eyes. As if my fiancé hadn’t just humiliated me in front of hundreds of people today, and him.
I didn’t feel the hot tears dripping down my cheeks, as I kept hitting his chest with my fists, my sobs broken, “You can’t just – You can’t-“
I didn’t realize when my arms fell limp and I was surrounded by his warmth as he held me to his chest, saying nothing, his chin resting on top of my head.
I just cried, my tears not stopping. My abused heart tearing itself into even more pieces as the events of today started solidifying in my mind
“I’m sorry,” I sobbed into his chest. “I’m so sorry.”
I didn’t even know what I was apologizing for.
He drew me closer to himself, and I could feel the press of his lips on top of my head, as he murmured, “I’ve got you, now. You’re okay.”
I hated that his voice and those words gave me comfort, but my body automatically relaxed in his.
The tears dried out at some point, my heart raw and my body feeling heavy.
I closed my eyes and used one of the techniques from my childhood to compose myself. Clearing my head, I start breathing in and out slowly, bringing my heartbeat back to normal. It took me a few minutes, but when I opened my eyes, I felt more like myself and I nudged Philip to release me.
His eyes narrowed at my calm expression, but he let me take a few steps back.
I walked over to the small washroom and closed the door behind me. Staring at myself in the small mirror above the basin, I murmured, “You’ve been through much worse than this, Charlotte. If you got through all that, you can get through this.”
It was easier said than done, but I hadn’t spent the last decade building my life piece by piece, only to be broken down over for being jilted at the altar.
My blood heated.
No.
I wasn’t going to throw away everything I’d worked for.
But as my eyes burned with tears and my heart ached, I knew that it was going to take some more time to bounce back from this. Words weren’t going to be enough.
I washed my face with cold water from the tap, feeling the layers of makeup come off. Wiping my face dry, I stepped out and saw Philip standing there, worried.
I wasn’t ready to face him yet.
I wasn’t ready to acknowledge what he had just done.
I needed time to process and time to get my affairs in order.
I needed to figure out how to handle this whole mess.
When he took a step forward, I raised a hand, “Don’t.”
Philip pursed his lips in a thin line, “Charlotte.”
I shook my head, wrapping my arms around myself to ward off the pain, forcing my voice to remain steady, “I don’t know why you did this. But my whole life has just been turned upside down.”
He took a step forward and a crack appeared in my armor. I take one step back, “Please, go away. I have to figure this whole mess out and fix it.”
“There’s nothing to be-“
I glared at him through the tears that were shimmering in my eyes again, my voice thick, “I don’t want – You can’t use me to get what you think is some sort of payback on Erik. This marriage is – I don’t even know what thi
s is – I-“
I took a deep breath to calm myself down, and said, evenly, “You need to leave. Give me a few days, Philip. I need to sort through this whole mess and figure things out. You’ve just made things worse.”
Philip just stared at me, his jaw taut, and then he turned around and marched through the door.
I walked over and locked the door behind him.
My knees gave way and with my back against the door, I slid down to the ground.
Wrapping my arms around my knees, I just wept.
3
Philip
I stared at the numbers on the laptop screen, my eyes not focusing.
All I could see, was the way Charlotte had looked as she had wept in my arms, her small frame trembling against my body.
Anger flowed through me and my eyes flew to the newspaper that lay on my desk, the headlines screaming at me.
My younger sister was a whizz at PR. She was right now running her own company, her services in high demand.
Agatha had quickly taken over and manipulated the news to suit my needs. Instead of claiming Charlotte to be a jilted bride, the news described their secret romance as being off the paper, and how Philip McCoy, the CEO of McCoy Security Enterprises, a billionaire and a bachelor, had crashed his beloved’s wedding and tied the knot with her instead.
And Philip McCoy already had a reputation for taking what he wanted.
There was slight mention of Erik Mason, the successful businessman, who had been jilted by his fiancée on seeing the man she was truly in love with. Despite the fact that Charlotte hadn’t contacted me in two days, I smirked at how this must eat at Erik.
There was no doubt in my mind that the man had done this solely to humiliate Charlotte. Although I hadn’t pieced all the pieces together, I had done research on the man and the woman he had left with.
Madison Williams was Erik’s girlfriend.
And according to the investigation I had conducted, in the two years that Charlotte and Erik had been together, Erik had still been seeing this Madison.
The media had tried to reach out to Erik, but he had flown off to Venice for the honeymoon he was supposed to have had with Charlotte, with Madison at his side.
He was going to have to come back at some point, I mused. And when he did, I would make sure to teach Erik a lesson he would never forget.
“Well, look here. Our boy, all married and shit. Are we late for the wedding?”
The thick Irish accent cut into my brooding, I winced and glanced over to see a tall man with dark brown shaggy hair, and an amused look in his light blue eyes. His smile widened, revealing the dimple on his cheek, and he sauntered in, casually throwing himself down on the couch.
My office was on the top floor and I wondered how Fergus found his way in, dressed as he was. His black shirt and black pants gave him a lean, dangerous look, as did the tattoos on his arms which he had exposed, having rolled the sleeves to his elbows.
In contrast to him, I rarely let my tattoos be exposed while I was at work, unless I was working privately in my office, like right now.
“You heard, huh?” I studied him.
“We all did,” came another voice and two men walked in, one of them frowning, and the other in the process of rolling up his sleeves.
“So, ran away with the bride, did you?” Zayn leaned against my desk, pointing to the article on the front page, his icy blue eyes gleaming.
“What of it?” I asked challengingly, my arms crossed against my chest.
Zayn raised his dark brows, and raked a hand through his dark black hair, “I’m not complaining, man. If that’s your new hobby, I support you.”
“Fuck you,” I grinned at him.
Ian walked over, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, his green eyes portraying his amusement, “You should have told us you were getting married. I would have taken the afternoon off.”
His red hair was tied in a tiny ponytail at his nape and his eyes laughed at me.
I raised my hands in defeat, “It’s complicated.”
“Yeah, we figured,” Zayn informed me. “It’s always a shock to find out one of my closest friends just got married in the news. You guys need to stop doing that.”
However, even Zayn’s sarcasm wasn’t enough to lighten my mood and I found myself telling them what had happened.
After a long silence, Ian spoke up, “You haven’t thought this through, have you?”
I sighed, twirling a pen between my fingers, “You all remember Charlotte. She used to follow us around when we were young, along with Agatha.”
Fergus’s eyes darkened, “I remember the bruises her old man used to put on her.”
Zayn was quiet, “I remember her. She used to worship the ground you walked on.”
I didn’t say anything for a moment, “I hadn’t seen her in ten years. Yesterday was the first time I saw her, and it was like the abuse had just changed form. I couldn’t take it.”
“How is marrying her a solution, Philip?” Zayn asked. “You pitied her, so you decided to marry her?”
A wave of anger swept through me, but I buried it with force that I had learnt from years of practice. I snap out, “I don’t pity her.”
My childhood friend wasn’t done, “Then explain to me what you plan on doing? Do you love this woman? Does she love you? Or are you just going to tie her to you in an attempt to protect her from the world?”
This time I couldn’t hide the fury that contorted my face, “What if I do want to protect her?”
It was the level-headed Ian who said, “That doesn’t seem fair to her. You just forced her into a marriage she wasn’t prepared for, after she just got jilted by the man she wanted to marry. You ended up complicating her life even more, Philip.”
I knew what Ian was saying was not wrong, but a part of me didn’t want to let go of Charlotte. I didn’t understand why.
I struggled to form a reason, “Charlotte is special.”
Fergus stared at me, “Special, as in, you-love-her special or special as in, she’s-an-angel-descended-from-heaven special?”
I stared outside the glass window at the city of Chicago, “She has always been special. I can’t explain it.”
“So, you have feelings for her?”
I didn’t know how to answer them.
Getting a call from Charlotte, five days after the whole incident, gave me a lot to think about.
As I sat in the café, eyeing the cup of untouched coffee in front of me, I wondered why I was playing along with whatever this was. I knew what the right thing here to do was, but a part of me wondered, just wondered, what would happen if Charlotte refused to do what I was going to ask of her.
She had always been a quiet child.
Growing up, it felt like Charlotte had always been around. Her mother used to work in our house and Charlotte, a toddler then would follow her around. Since my parents were never home, there was nobody to mind a small child’s presence. Plus, she had been the same age as Agatha and the two became friends.
Even after her mother’s death, Charlotte had still come around.
I had always been protective of both my sister and Charlotte, the latter more so because every time I would see, her arms and legs would be sporting purplish bruises.
But even as I had grown more and more protective towards this girl, I had not once looked at her as a sister.
The sound of a pair of heels on the polished floor made me look up, and once again, the cool composed beauty of Charlotte took my breath away.
She was wearing a top that was so soft that it looked like it would rip at my gentlest touch. Her skirt was long and modest, flirting around her toned legs.
As I stood up and pulled out her chair, as manners dictated, she looked surprised at my gesture, and then hesitatingly took the seat I offered.
She looked better, I mused. Her skin had always been fair, but that death pallor was gone, replaced by a faint rosiness.
She stared at me, perhaps
studying me in the same way that I was taking in her every detail. There was a guarded look in her eyes that had never been there before, and I hated it.
“You look well,” I finally broke the silence.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “Yeah. Like I said, I needed some time.”
She took a deep breath and then looked me straight in the eyes, “You made our marriage a media storm.”
I did not flinch under her gaze.
I held no regrets.
“I’m not done yet. What Erik did to you was something he had planned. I overheard a snippet of their conversation when I arrived. Unfortunately, I didn’t understand what he meant to do till it was too late.”
Charlotte sighed, “So, what?”
A flare of something dark in me surfaced, “You’ve forgiven him?”
She scoffed, this bitterness from her, something new to me, “Forgiven him? I’m done with him. I want this whole thing to be over so that I can pick up my life and move on. Erik and I were always from two ends of the social spectrum. I should have known something like this was too good to be true.”
She shrugged, “The blame lies on my shoulders as well.”
I didn’t like the way she so casually threw herself under the bus like that, as if the fact that that slimy git had chosen her was an honor she had no right to.
My words were sharp yet soft, “A man like Erik doesn’t deserve somebody like you.”
When Charlotte paled at my words, I continued, annoyed, “You are worth far more than he could ever hope to get.”
She stared at me, and then lowered her gaze, “Whatever the case may be, I’m not here to discuss that. I want to tell you that I’ve gotten in touch with my lawyer to prepare the annulment papers.”
I didn’t react, “I see.”
She waited for a moment, and then continued on, “I already have a very low profile, so it shouldn’t have that much of an impact. I’ll have the papers to you by the end of the week.
I-“
She hesitated.
“What you did for me, I’m grateful. I certainly didn’t expect it. But you and Agatha kept me together and I want to thank you for it.”
