Irresistible Bachelors: Books 1-5 by Landish, Lauren (bts books to read TXT) 📕

“If you’d face each other,” the minister says quietly, and I’m jerked back to reality as Oliver takes my hand and turns toward me. Through my veil, I look at him again, his face a mask, the joy on his face not reaching his eyes. “Oliver Steele, do you take this woman to be your . . .”

I don’t hear anything, I stare at Oliver as he listens, and I see a glimmer of something in his eyes when the minister finishes. It’s pain. Still, he nods before clearing his throat. “I do.”

“And Mindy Isabella Price, do you take this man to be your . . .”

I open my mouth to say I do, but the words die on my lips. There’s so much pain in Oliver’s eyes. I’m ruining this, not just for myself and not just for my family, even if they don’t know it, but for him too.

I tear my eyes away from Oliver to look around the chapel. Beside me, I can see Roxy in tears, hungrily awaiting my answer. I see Mom staring at me, her face shining with so much emotion and pride. Beside her are Aunt Rita, Grandma, and cousin Layla. Behind them are John, Uncle Charles, and everyone else, all of them waiting for these two simple words. The heavy weight of guilt becomes almost unbearable.

I'm a liar. A big fucking liar.

The priest clears his throat again as the silence stretches on. I look back at Oliver, and something inside me breaks. No more of this, no more lies. “Oliver . . . I’m sorry.”

I throw off my veil as I hike my dress and jump off the altar, stumbling on the thick carpet for a moment. There’s an audible gasp in the audience as I book it for the back doors, and I hear a sharp wail of dismay from someone—I think it’s Roxy.

Suddenly, Mom grabs my arm, trying to pull me to her. She pulls me around, and I see confusion and pain in her eyes now, too. Everywhere I look, there’s pain. “Mindy, stop! What are you doing?”

I jerk my arms free, stumbling backward. I can feel the tears start to flow, but I don’t care. Let them all see. Let everyone see the fraud that I am, not the fairytale princess that they came here to see. “Leave me alone! Why can’t you just leave me alone!”

“Honey, please,” she says, still not understanding. “You’re just scared and overreacting—”

“It’s all fake!” I yell at the top of my lungs. Mom stops, and everything freezes. I’m not even sure if they’re breathing or if they know what I mean. “Don’t you understand? Everything! Oliver, my engagement, all of it! Everything is fucking fake!”

Sobbing uncontrollably, I hike up my dress and run from the chapel, leaving everyone too shocked to even try and stop me.Oliver

I pause in the hallway, my hand on the knob. It’s early afternoon now, hours after the service was supposed to happen, and I can’t think of another time in my life that’s been more difficult. The image of her stricken face still dominates my mind, the way she looked at me as she apologized and then ran from the chapel.

Yeah, it was fake. Yeah, we were going to get the damn thing annulled by Friday next week. But it still stings because of how I really feel about her.

I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but standing at that altar today, I let myself start to wonder. I wondered if we could lie our way to reality. If there were a way to keep digging deeper and deeper and end up on the other side free and clean.

Her running away felt like she abandoned me. Just when I was beginning to work past the doubt and pain of her words last night, she just abandoned me at the altar. She left me out there, all alone, to face all those people by myself.

It was hard dealing with that. For a few minutes there, I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to get out of the chapel alive, surrounded by accusatory glares and shouted questions from her family. But I didn’t say anything. I didn’t betray her.

But I can’t let this stand without doing something. I have to tell her I’ll help make it right . . . I have to tell her that I want . . . something. Something I didn’t even have a chance to fully figure out before the whole day exploded into chaos like a party favor from hell.

I open the door to see her lying across the bed, her shoulders shaking from giant sobs. She jerks upright almost immediately when she hears me step in the room, and I see that she’s stripped out of her gown at least, wearing just a long nightshirt that makes my chest ache with conflicting emotions. I want to hug her, I want to kiss her, and I want to choke her. In the end, I stand right where I am.

“What are you doing here?” she says, her voice a soft croak. “Come to yell at me?”

“I came to see how you were doing,” I say softly, taking a step into the bedroom. “You left before anyone could even react.”

She sniffs, wiping at her nose with her forearm. Not sexy, but totally understandable. “I’m obviously not fine. But I’ll live.”

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, sticking my hands in the pockets of my tux. “I should have done more.”

“Why? All of this is my fault. I deserve all of it. You only did what you were asked to do.”

“You don’t have to face it alone.” I step closer, but she scoots back, and I freeze, knowing that if I get closer, I’m going to spook her even more. “Your family is waiting to hear an explanation. Listen, I was thinking as I walked back here that I’ll tell them I made you do it. That I’m the one who had a marker on