“Don’t say that,” he snapped gently. “You’re not some expired commodity. Look… I’ll have someone brief you about the one we’ve chosen. You deserve to meet him before anything’s finalized.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I’d said quickly, steeling my voice. “I trust you and the rest of the family. Just pick whoever you think is suitable. I’ll go through with it.”
There’d been a pause, then a sigh—deep, resigned.
“When are you coming back then? The pack will want to prepare everything. Are you sure you don’t want to meet him at least once?”
“No. The sooner we act, the sooner this mess can be cleaned up. Let’s hold the ceremony a month from now.”
“Got it,” he said. Then, with hesitation: “By the way… Isaac’s first love, Candice—she’s back. Have you spoken to him recently? Maybe invite him to the wedding. He might bring… closure.”
So he knew. Of course he did.
“No point in that,” I replied, my voice low. “We’re not close.”
Now, standing in Isaac’s arms, those words tasted like ash.
And as I looked into his face, so concerned, so confused by my silence, I couldn’t decide which truth would hurt more—the one I held, or the one he pretended not to know.