To Live (3 page)

Read To Live Online

Authors: Dori Lavelle

Tags: #Romance, #second chances, #starting again, #dark past, #angst, #left at the altar, #small town romance

Kelsey felt enough for him to marry him. The glow that had attracted them to each other two years earlier had never become a fire, but she didn't need earth-shattering passion to make a marriage work. The love she felt for him was enough. And she had big plans for their wedding night.

She stepped into the cool hotel lobby and waved at the receptionist. The elevator transported her to the top floor and she smiled as she exited and pulled her keycard from her purse.

Inside the luxurious suite, she placed the flowers on the glass table by the door and started arranging them. Then a sound startled her—something like a whimper. She straightened up and headed in the direction of the bedroom. A loud scream stopped her in her tracks.

She almost turned to run out, but stopped herself. Who could be in the suite? A cleaner? Her heart beating fast, she tiptoed on, and when she came to the closed door she pressed her ear against it. Then it hit her. Someone was making love.

Eyebrows scrunched together, she twisted the golden door handle, which didn't make a sound. She pushed the door open an inch, her heart hammering the breath right out of her body. Then she saw Craig—well, she saw his butt, clenching and relaxing as he pounded into a woman who was leaning forward with her arms resting on their unmade honeymoon bed. As the woman begged for more, he groaned like an animal in a cage. His face was raised to the ceiling and his dark, damp hair clung to the back of his neck as he gave her what she wanted.

Kelsey's hand flew to her mouth to stop herself from crying out. With the other, she closed the door, careful not to be heard. Then she stumbled out of the suite, tears streaming down her cheeks, and her heart cracking from the inside out.

***

Inside her office, Kelsey sat staring at the wall, feeling as if her lungs had shrunk in size and couldn't accommodate any more air. With a trembling hand, she picked up the phone and dialed Delia's number.

"Hey, Kels? Guess what I'm doing? It has to do with your wedding. No, don't bother. You're crappy at—"

"Delia," Kelsey cut her off. Even hearing the word "wedding" made her want to throw up. "Can you do something for me?"

"I'm your maid of honor, do you need to ask?" Delia was in high spirits. She was a true friend. Kelsey remembered all too well that during the first year she and Craig dated, Delia hadn't liked him, and she had made that fact clear to Kelsey. Delia had said there was something about Craig that made her distrust him. But when Kelsey seemed happy enough with him, she'd put down her weapons. Then the claws came out again when Craig proposed six months ago. Delia tried to convince Kelsey she was making a mistake, but Kelsey had refused to listen. So, Delia had had no choice but to close her mouth and respect her friend's decision.

Craig didn't give Kelsey butterflies in her stomach, but she did love him, and most importantly, he was the first man her father had approved of her dating. Who needed butterflies? As far as Kelsey was concerned, that ship had sailed when she'd broken up with Shane, the first and only man she'd fallen hard for. Her college sweetheart. He'd walked out of her life because her father had refused to stop interfering in their relationship. He'd made it abundantly clear that his daughter wouldn't end up with a penniless artist.

Kelsey's eyes burned and she bit her lip in an attempt to hold back the tears that were forming. She wouldn't cry in the office. She was a professional. "Remember when you wanted me to do a background check on Craig before... marrying him?"

"Yeeees?" Suspicion dripped from Delia's voice. "Is everything all right? You sound weird."

Kelsey shook her head. A tear slipped out of her eye and slid down her cheek. "Are you still in touch with your private detective friend?"

"Yes, Kelsey, what's going on?" Delia's voice was hushed.

"I'll tell you later." Kelsey paused. "Can you ask your friend to do a background check on Craig?"

The phone went silent as if Delia had hung up.

"Delia? Are you there?"

"Honey, you're getting married tomorrow. Why are you suddenly suspicious of Craig? Tell me, what did he do?"

"I'll tell you tonight at dinner." Kelsey's father had organized a rehearsal dinner for her and Craig and although she didn't feel like showing up, she would. She had a plan. "I want to know everything about him, Delia."

"You do know there's no way Cynthia can do a complete background check in only a few hours, right?"

"Please ask her anyway, I need anything on him, his past... whatever I can get."

Delia sighed. "I have a confession to make."

Kelsey frowned. "What confession? What is it?"

"I already asked her to look into his past. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gone ahead without your permission."

"Why did you?"

"I was worried about you. He gave me a bad feeling." Delia paused. "In my defense, I didn't look inside the folder. It's inside my drawer, sealed. I was going to burn it."

"Don't... don't burn it," Kelsey said quickly. "I need to see what's inside. I'm coming over."

Kelsey was out of her chair before they had even hung up. Fifteen minutes later, she was at Delia's apartment, and Delia was handing her a white envelope.

When Kelsey left an hour later, she was shaken, confused, and furious. Back at her apartment, racking sobs overwhelmed her and she slid to the floor, her legs splayed awkwardly, as she emptied her heart of the pain that filled it.

***

On her wedding day, dressed in snow-white tulle and lace, Kelsey watched the minister's lips moving, but when his words hit her ears, they dissipated into nothing.

This was the last place she wanted to be. Standing at the altar opposite the man who had betrayed her in the most unforgivable way. She wrinkled her nose. The smell of flowers, perfume, hairspray, and burning candles made her dizzy.

Craig smiled as his lips moved and he held on tight to her hands. He was vowing to be her husband, to love and to hold, to forsake all others.
Jerk
, she thought. He was making a promise to be with her forever while he still smelled of another woman's perfume—something fruity.

When the minister turned to Kelsey, she perked up and glowered at Craig. Her heart was thumping fast and beads of sweat formed on her upper lip. This was it—the moment she had been waiting for.

"Kelsey O'Neil," the minister said, and rambled on about whether she, too, would take him to be her partner for life.

As much as her heart was breaking, her lips twitched in the suggestion of a smile. She inhaled deeply and glanced at Delia; her friend nodded, urging her to do what had to be done.

"Kelsey?" Craig leaned forward. "Are you okay?"

"Never been better." Sweat oiled her palms, but her voice was hard. She would do this. Craig would not make a fool of her.

"So," the minister arched a bushy eyebrow, "will you take Craig Carnahan to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

The pews of the church were filled with guests, but the room was silent, punctuated only by the occasional cough.

She let the moment drag on for a few seconds longer, and then she parted her lips. "No." The word rang loud and clear. "I will not marry you, Craig."

Craig dropped her hands and his eyes widened. For a few seconds, he just stared at her, the muscles in his face tense, his mouth twitching in an odd way. "What... Why? What's going on?"

Kelsey kept her gaze locked on his. "Because you're not the man I thought you were. Are you, Craig?"

A gasp came from one of the guests, and from the corner of her eye Kelsey saw her father rise and approach them. "What are you doing?" he whispered, his voice loaded.

Kelsey faced her dad. He was handsome in a hand-tailored, classic black suit. The sprinkling of gray at his temples was the only clue he was approaching sixty.

"You want me to marry Craig Carnahan, Dad? Are you sure about that?"

"That's why we're here," he whispered between clenched teeth. "What kind of nonsense is this?"

"You want your daughter to marry a criminal?" Kelsey quivered as she glared at Craig.

"Kelsey, don't do this." Craig's face hardened, but only for a fraction of a second. As if a button had been pressed, his expression softened. "Let's go... let's go and talk somewhere more... private." He touched her arm, but she yanked it away.

"Don't you dare touch me." His touch, his smell, even his face disgusted her. And all the more so when she pictured the scene in the hotel room—him panting, grunting, and dripping with sweat as he pounded into another woman, the day before he was going to marry her. The mental image made her stomach lurch.

Another gasp from the crowd was followed by whispers. She didn't give a damn what they thought. She wanted to hurt Craig the way he had hurt her.

Avoiding eye contact, the minister leafed through his Bible as if searching for instructions on how to handle the situation.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Craig asked, but his voice cracked.

"Well, Craig—or should I say Tom Malone? It doesn't matter. Whoever you are, I will not marry you."

"No problem." He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "We can postpone the wedding."

"You don't get it, do you? I will not marry you today, tomorrow, or ever." Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She hadn't even realized she was crying. "I will not marry a man who's already married under a different name. I will not marry a stranger."

Kelsey felt, rather than saw, her father turn to the guests. In a firm, controlled voice he said, "ladies and gentlemen, I'm afraid we have to end the day here. I apologize for the inconvenience caused, but we have some personal matters to discuss."

He had hardly finished speaking when the guests stood and started walking out of the church. The minister disappeared through a small door. Kelsey's eyes were still locked on Craig, but she heard the hurried movements, the whispers. She felt the wave of shock and disbelief, smelled the thick scent of scandal. They all couldn't wait to leave, to gossip about what had just happened.

When silence descended, a hand wrapped around her arm and her father whispered in her ear, "Kelsey, these accusations are ridiculous. What's gotten into you?"

Why was he whispering? Kelsey laughed and cried at the same time. "Not only did he sleep with another woman yesterday, in our suite at the Muriel, he's a conman. And I have proof."

Her father and Craig watched as she stepped to one of the chairs decorated with ribbons—the one reserved for Delia, who had left with the other guests—and removed a bag hanging from it. She pulled from it a thick white envelope and handed it to her father, who looked like a volcano about to erupt. "Everything you need to know about him is in there."

Craig's expression changed from confident to horrified. His face turned puce. "How dare you," he said between clenched teeth as he pointed a shaking finger at Kelsey. "How dare you—"

"Shut up. Just shut up." Kelsey's father leafed quickly through the pages and photos. A vein began throbbing in his neck, and the blood drained from his face. "Identity theft, money laundering, embezzlement..." He tossed the papers and photos on a nearby chair, and before Kelsey could register what was happening, he charged toward Craig and planted a fist in the center of his face, knocking Craig to the floor.

Kelsey's hands flew to her mouth.

Her father massaged his hand. "Call the police." It was an order.

Kelsey reached for her purse as Craig scrambled to his feet and stumbled down the aisle, a hand clamped over his bloody nose.

"Run," her father said, his voice like thunder. "You'll not get far. You'll pay for this. I'll personally make bloody sure of that."

Craig burst through the double doors and disappeared.

***

"What a total jerk." Maeve scowled. "I hope you made him pay for what he did."

"We did. He tried to leave the country, but the cops picked him up at the airport and arrested him for a string of crimes. His sentence was extended when we found out during an audit that he'd embezzled over a million euros from my father's company."

"Wow, that's some heavy stuff. That's why I don't trust men. They're all liars. I never date a man for longer than one month."

"A month? That's it?"

Maeve dipped a finger into her beer and sucked off the foam. "I don't trust any of them."

"They're not all the same, you know. There are some good men out there."

"Believe me. They're all alike. Look at that one." Maeve pointed to a middle-aged man sitting at one of the high tables beside the bar. He had one hand wrapped around a glass of whiskey and was stroking a plump woman's cheek with the other. "That's his wife over there." She moved her gaze to a woman sitting at a table not far from them. The woman's eyes were fixed on her husband, and she looked close to tears. "I don't know how long she's going to keep up with his bed-hopping. He doesn't even make it a secret that he's seeing other women. They've only been married a year."

"Poor woman."

"Yes. See why I'll never get married or have children?"

"You never want to? Ever?" Despite what had happened with Craig, Kelsey still wanted to get married one day, and have kids—with the right man this time.

"What's the point? Most marriages I know end bitterly."

Kelsey bit into her brownie. "Have you ever been in love?"

"A long time ago. It didn't end well." Maeve feigned a shiver.

"What happened?"

"He was an ass. Take it from me: Men can't be trusted. One month is the limit for me."

"How's the guy you went to meet this afternoon?"

"Actually, it was a breakup date. We've been seeing each other for three weeks, and he was getting to the stage where he wanted to hold my hand in public. Can't have that."

Kelsey laughed and finished her tea.

Maeve waved a petite blond waitress over to their table. "I'll have another pint, Clara, and one for my friend."

"No, no." Kelsey shook her head. "I don't drink beer."

"There's a first time for everything. Tonight's the night to let your hair down."

It wasn't considered classy to drink beer where Kelsey came from—but she was in Dreara to get away from that lifestyle. She had come here to do what she wanted, without anyone peering over her shoulder. Maybe she
should
drink a beer and decide for herself whether she liked it.

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