The Belated Bride: Becoming My Own Muse Chapter 11

The Belated Bride: Becoming My Own Muse Chapter 11

Rational.

Those two words landed harder than a slap across the face.

I stared at him for a few seconds. Then I laughed.

“Christian, being understanding isn’t the same as not being in pain.”

“It just means that when it hurt before, I didn’t say anything.”

His throat moved. For once, he didn’t immediately fire back a defense.

But Bianca quickly stepped forward and said softly, “Claire, I’m sorry. This is all my fault. Chris was just worried that my comeback wouldn’t go smoothly. He didn’t mean anything by it. Please don’t let this ruin things between you two…”

I turned my head and looked at her.

“Ms. Moore.”

She stopped.

I said, “If you really believe it’s your fault, then you can pay your own damages. Issue your own public apology. And keep your own distance from someone else’s husband.”

The wronged expression on her face froze solid.

“Don’t say ‘I’m sorry’ with your mouth while hiding behind his back.”

I walked around them and got into the car.

Before I closed the door, I heard Christian call my name.

“Claire.”

This time, I didn’t look back.

The dress was sent back to the studio for restoration.

That night, Christian called twenty-six times.

I didn’t pick up a single one.

After the twelfth call, he texted: [I admit I handled things badly today.]

After the fifteenth: [I’ll have Bee pay for the dress damages.]

After the eighteenth: [Don’t use divorce as a threat.]

After the twenty-sixth: [Where are you?]

I read them all and then put my phone aside.

Grant was sitting across the worktable, reviewing the restoration plan.

He pointed at the damaged clasp on the back.

“Can you make it in time?”

“I can make it in time.”

I picked up a needle and thread.

“It’s just that, on the day of the show, there’ll be a scar left here.”

“Then leave it.”

I looked up at him.

Grant said, “Wounds are part of the story too.”

I didn’t say anything.

He went on, “Of course, if you don’t want to leave it, we can switch to an alternate showpiece. Ashford Group has backup plans.”

“I’m not switching.”

I re-threaded the needle.

“The more they try to snatch it, the more I need everyone to see exactly who this dress belongs to.”

Grant watched me for a moment. Then he suddenly smiled.

“Claire, you’re far more ruthless than you were three years ago.”