9. Lark

Chapter nine

Lark

Oh my God. My head feels like tiny elephants are stampeding through it. There’s a blinding light burning the backs of my eyes. My mouth is drier than the desert and feels like it’s full of fluff.

Hangovers are so stupid.

Forcing myself to blink my eyes open, for a minute, I’m confused. Where the heck am I? Then I inhale slowly, the scent of fresh laundry blowing in the breeze as familiar to me as anything.

Dan .

The guys on the team tease him about his obsession with making sure his laundry smells good, but I secretly love it. I don’t need musky, woodsy, whatever. Give me clean laundry smell any day.

I burrow my head in his pillow as bits and pieces of last night come back to me. Drinking with Willow and Sadie, deciding to end my engagement, and then Dan showing up like a white knight to take me home.

Wait.

Did I …

Oh God.

With a muffled groan, I roll over, and spy my phone on the bedside table. Opening it, I check my call log. Yup, there it is, a two-minute call to Dan’s phone. Except, I don’t remember him answering. No, I left him a rambling voice message. And I can’t remember what I said.

Dropping my phone, I yank the covers over my head. Except, all that does is flood my senses with his smell.

Tossing off the covers, I glance down. Crap, I’m wearing his clothes? This is…this is too much. I need to get out of here, get rid of this hangover, and get my head thinking clearly.

Because the one thing my traitorous brain keeps imagining? Is waking up in this bed…

With Dan next to me.

I’m not proud of sneaking out of Dan’s apartment, still wearing his T-shirt, no less. But when I gathered my stuff and walked out to his living room, he looked so peaceful, asleep on his couch. I didn’t have it in me to wake him up.

Not to mention, I wasn’t ready to face him. Not until I figure out what to do about everything.

As soon as I’m home, having taken a taxi back to the restaurant to collect my car, I get in the shower, turning it on as hot as it can go.

That, along with some eucalyptus-scented body wash, helps to clear some of the hangover. And when I step out, I roll on some peppermint and lavender essential oil to deal with the pounding in my head as I get dressed.

First things first. I need to talk to Baron. I don’t feel good about having this conversation while he’s still away, but there’s no way I can wait any longer to end this. It has to happen, and it has to happen now .

I make a cup of coffee and a bagel, then settle in on my couch. Even though it’s still very early here in Vancouver, Baron’s work trip has him on the East Coast, meaning it’s a reasonable hour there.

Sure enough, he answers my video call immediately.

“Hey Lark, what’s up?”

I look at him for a second, trying to find any love in the way he looks at me or in the way he greets me. But there’s nothing there. I suppose the fact that we haven’t spoken — not even a text — in several days is proof that I’m making the right decision. I deserve someone who wants to talk to me every day, who cares about me, my life, my heart. I deserve more than a “What’s up?”

“Hi. How’s your trip so far?”

“Fine. I’m about to head into the office for a meeting, so I only have a few minutes. What can I do for you?”

“Baron, do you still love me?” I ask, ripping off the Band-Aid. I watch him closely to see his reaction. All he does is raise his eyebrows.

“What kind of a question is that?”

“A perfectly reasonable one if we’re meant to be getting married in a few weeks,” I fire back.

His gaze drops away from the phone, and I hear him exhale a long, slow sigh. “Lark, I really don’t have time for this.”

Stubbornly, I ignore him. “It shouldn’t be that hard to answer me. Unless you don’t, in which case, we’re making a big mistake.”

“We’ve been together for so long, and our families —”

“Forget our families, Baron. I don’t want to marry someone I don’t love with my entire heart and soul. And I deserve to marry someone who loves me that way in return.” I pause, staring at him until he finally looks up. “And so do you.”

Emotions play across his usually placid face, eventually settling on relief. And that sentiment is echoed in myself. Baron’s not a bad guy, he’s just not right for me. And I’m not going to settle for not right any longer.

“I did love you.”

I finally give him a small smile, because I get it. “I know. It was good for a while. But we changed.”

He nods slowly. “We did. And I’m sorry for that.” He glances to the side, then back to the phone as he stands up. “Look, can we continue this later, I really do need to go.”

And just like that, any goodwill I was feeling for him based on how this conversation was going dissipates. How can this not take priority?

“No, your meeting can wait a couple more minutes.”

I guess my annoyance comes through because he stops. “Okay…”

Taking a deep breath, I finally say it. “I don’t think we should get married.”

I see his lips purse as he blows out his breath. “No, I don’t suppose we should.” There’s a slight tinge of regret to his voice, but mostly it’s acceptance.

Which gives me the courage to forge on, all the words that have been swirling around in my head for weeks pouring out of me. Being this honest, this raw, feels uncomfortable, there’s no doubt. Especially since we’ve never been this way with each other. But instinctively, I know there’s no other option right now. Not if we want a clean break.

“And I think it’s best if we go our separate ways. Amicably. I don’t hate you or anything, but I don’t love you, and I don’t want to be with you anymore. You’re a good man, and at one point, we were happy together. But that doesn’t mean we’re meant to be together forever. No matter what everyone else thinks. We want different things, have different goals and ideas for the future. And we probably should have talked about all of that before we got engaged, but I think we both got caught up in what we believed we should do instead of what we wanted to do.”

He nods again.

“So this is me saying it’s time to do what we want, what will make us happy. Instead of worrying about everyone else.”

A small, somewhat sad smile twitches at his lips. “You’re a smart woman, Lark. Kind and beautiful. You would have made an excellent wife. But you’re right. We changed. As individuals and as a couple. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I let it get this far.”

Hearing him apologize, hearing him be honest and admit his feelings in return, is exactly what I needed. The last chain around me falls away. I didn’t realize I was harbouring some guilt over my decision to end our relationship, but given how good I feel right now, I guess I did. And now, knowing he doesn’t want to go through with it either, that guilt dissipates leaving me feeling nothing but relief.

We talk for a few minutes longer, sorting out the details of how and when we’ll tell our families. In the end, we decide to handle it separately, for which I’m eternally grateful. Not having to face Cordelia Hazelwood and tell her that her wedding plans were for nothing? Sounds great to me.

I hang up with Baron after agreeing we’ll meet up when he’s back in town for us to return anything we have of each other’s and for me to give the ring back. Then I slide it off my finger and set it on my dresser. Staring down at the band, the diamond sparkling up at me, I feel an overwhelming sense of lightness. As if removing that ring removed a weight from me.

I still have to deal with my own family, but after that? I’m free.

And I know exactly what I’m going to do first.