THEY SAY THAT TO GET married in June means you’ll always be a bride. Apparently, when you get married in November, it means that your husband admits he’s really in love with the wedding planner.

While on your honeymoon.

Four days into it.

After you’ve already made love four and a half times. The last time counts as a half because he wanted anal, but I wasn’t ready for that type of commitment to our marriage... so he stopped and pouted.

That was thirty minutes ago. Now... now... he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, looking less pouty and more guilty.

“I know this isn’t the best way to tell you, but think of how awful it would be if I were to wait until later,” he mansplains. “I tried, honey. I tried so hard to make this work.”

I can’t stop staring at Joe, like a complete nitwit, with my mouth hanging open. My heart no longer resides in my chest. It’s in his hands, being ripped to shreds with every word that comes out of his lying, cheating mouth.

I want to cry, but the tears won’t fall.

I want to scream, but my throat is paralyzed.

I want to kill him, but I think prison orange jumpsuits are hideous.

“Layton, say something.”

I find my voice, though it’s hoarse. “Later?”

“Yeah, later. Later would be so bad. This already felt like a hook-up gone wrong.”

“A hook up?”

He nods. “Like sleeping with my sister.”

“Oh, God.” I clutch my stomach as it pitches and roils. “Did you really just compare what we’ve been doing to incest?”

“Stop being so dramatic.” He grabs me by my shoulders, turning me around to face him. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know it isn’t.”

“Seriously, Layton, there’s nothing you could have done differently. Tiffany and I connected on an emotional level. We haven’t—she refused to let things go further until I talked with you—but she needs me in ways you never have.”

“I needed you to be faithful,” I say flatly.

“I was. I mean, physically, I didn’t let it go there because I love and respect you.” He gives me a friendly smile. “Please be understanding, sweetie. I wanted our marriage to work, but it won’t.”

“Who in the heck is understanding about a cheater trying to make his marriage work by sleeping with his wife?” Lord. I’m not even making sense. Nothing makes sense. All I want to do is curl into a ball and never go home.

So much for the life I had planned out in my head.

Junior league parties.

BBQs in the summer with our families.

Tailgating in the fall.

Christmas with my parents and Thanksgiving with his.

Two kids and a dog.

The white house with black shutters.

We’d had it all planned out since we were in middle school. Or maybe it was me who had it all planned and he simply went along for the ride... until a flashier car came along and seduced him away.

Why had Joe kept this from me for so long?

And why Tiffany?

When did it start?

Is there something lacking in me that made him go to her?

Oh, screw that. He’s to blame, not me.

“You’re supposed to be my best friend. How could you throw this—us— away like all the years we were together meant nothing?” I stand, moving to the porch that is straight over the water, where all I can see is the most beautiful ocean for miles and miles. I’m vacationing in paradise, but I’m living a nightmare.

I flex my hand, glancing down at my wedding band for a second. “How am I supposed to go back home?”

His stupid smile turns sympathetic. “I took care of that.”

“Everyone expects us to come back home still married.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He digs in his pocket, and pulls out a piece of paper that’s been folded several times. “Here are our new flight plans.”

I open the paper, reading over the details. Anger and frustration bulldoze over the sadness and humiliation. “You put me in coach?”

He holds his hands up. “Now listen, I think it’s best if—”

“You cheap bastard.” I yank off my ring and then hurl it into the ocean as hard as I can. “Good luck getting that back.”

“What the hell, Layton? That was my grandmother’s ring.” He strips off his shirt and kicks off his shoes before diving straight off our porch.

“Stop lying to me!” I march back into the room. “Your mother refused to let me wear it and had a knockoff made.”

While he swims with the fishes, I grab his things from the dresser drawers and start chucking them into the ocean as well.

“You crazy bitch. Stop throwing my shit and calm down.”

“Bless your heart, Joe. I am so, so sorry that I’m not calm.” I lob an entire drawer at his head, and he has to dive deep.

He shoots to the surface, sputtering obscenities as he shouts at me over and over until an audience forms as people come out on the other bungalow porches.

My face is red. I probably so look like a crazy bitch, but I refuse to let him dictate to me how I should react to his confession.

“By the way, your penis is so... well, it’s adequate and the sex was marginally good, but I don’t have anything else to compare it to, so you could suck.” Okay, so I’m super bad at talking crap, and even worse at lying. “You’re a cheater, Joe, and for that alone, you should be ashamed of yourself.”

He growls at me, and then dives into the ocean to look for the stupid engagement ring that at least I know now is real. No way he’d spend that much time searching for a zirconium.

More than a little satisfied, I pack up my things. To make myself feel better, I put my double strand of pearls back on where they belong, rubbing the diamond clasp for luck.

The necklace might be old-fashioned, but it survived crossing an ocean, the Great Depression, and the World Wars... along with the women who wore this piece of jewelry proudly.

If they can survive all of that, then I can endure not only being cheated on and abandoned by my husband, but also relegated to coach. But he also took the gift of my first time and made a mockery of our vows.

That sets my blood to boiling again, and I grab his precious antique watch—one I did not see before our wedding. He was so vague about who gave it to him, and now I know why. Determination in each step, I stalk all the way outside, blowing past our porch to stand at the edge of our little Tahitian bungalow.

“Yoo-hoo, Joe.”

He glares at me, his hands full of clothes. “I’m busy at the moment.”

I wave his watch in the air. “Does this mean anything to you?”

“No.”

He’s such a liar. “Then you won’t mind, if...” I pretend to let the watch fall. “Oh, I caught it. Never mind.”

“That was a gift.” He spits out some water. “Be reasonable and put the watch down.”

“Put it down for you? Why sugar, I’d be honored put your watch in a real special place.” I open my hand and let the watch drop. It sinks to the bottom, catching the rays of sun as it goes.

“That wasn’t waterproof,” Joe screams.

“Awwww. Really? You should have told me first.” I tip up my chin and toss my hair back. “Enjoy the rest of our honeymoon. I know I will.”

To myself, I vow, “And if I can’t, at least I’ll look pretty trying,”

Then I do what any girl in my situation would do... I call my big brother.

***

UNLIKE IN THE ROMANCE novel I’m reading while waiting for my ride home from the airport, I have never, ever been secretly in love with my big brother’s best friend. I haven’t even been publicly in love with Kingston’s best friend.

Oh, but I have loathed Aiden. Loathed him so hard that I threw a drink in his face the night I turned twenty-one after he suggested I suck on a dick instead of a lemon after my first shot of tequila.

Such a classy guy, no?

Aiden hasn’t always been so crude, though. When I was a little girl, he was sweet if a bit rough around the edges when he’d show up for Thanksgiving dinner or spring break. Sometimes, he’d come down in the summer to intern at my daddy’s law practice. The first time I met him, he let me take his picture and ask him a thousand questions that I wrote the answers to in my binder.

In any case, Kingston hadn’t heard his suggestion that night, or he would have thrown Aiden out of my party and right on his tight, muscular ass.

I’m not blind.

Aiden is hot... too hot and too cocky for his own good. A crying shame honestly, because if he ever got over himself and acted like a human being with feelings once again, then he’d probably be married by now.

I know most women wouldn’t dare pick up a romance after being cheated on, but for me... I need confirmation there are still men out there worth falling for. That they open doors, share their jackets, and show consideration for the heroine no matter what the two of them are going through at the time. I need love and hearts, weddings, and baby epilogues.

Grand declarations of love.

Hot sexy times... because let’s face it, losing one’s virginity hurts like hell, even when it’s to my supposedly caring husband while on our honeymoon.

However, while I have loathed Aiden for saying crude and crass things, I have never hated him.

“Sorry I’m a little late,” Kingston says, his black dress shoes coming into view. “Parking was a pain with all the renovations they’re doing.”

Cold shame washes over me, but then I remind myself that this is my big brother and he’s here for emotional support.

I lift my gaze from the book and almost start crying again, just from the look of concern in his dark eyes. It makes me want to become a little girl again, and ask him to beat the crap out of Joe for leaving me.

But I’m going to keep my big-girl cards and be strong instead.

“Told you I’d get an Uber.”

“No way in hell was I going to allow you to ride home by yourself after what that bastard did. Do you need help with your stuff?”

“Nope.” Standing, I shove my book into my purse, hoist it on my shoulder, and grab the handles of my bags, then start walking toward the exit. “Where are you parked?”

“Not too far.” He takes my suitcase from me. “I know you can roll this yourself, but I need something to do.”

I smile. “You always did like rescuing the girl.”

“Right now, I want to beat the shit out of the bad guy, then cut off his dick and shove it up his—” Kingston clears his throat. “You get the picture.”

“I want pictures. Maybe even a video to go viral. It could show me holding the knife before I castrate Joe. Do you think you could sell it to a jury as a crime of passion?”

He smiles at me. “There’s my baby sister—bloodthirsty like all the Price women are when scorned.”

“The Price men aren’t exactly turn-the-other-cheek followers,” I remind him.

He wraps an arm around me and pulls me close. “It’s going to be all right, honey. Remember you said I could kick his ass in your binder, and I bought a new pair of ass kickers last night.”

“Just don’t get arrested, okay?”

“Sure thing.”

“Also, can I live with you? I can’t face going back home.”

He doesn’t miss a step. “For as long as you want, kiddo.”

That’s when I let go of all my big-girl cards, and start to sob.