but to take it back. “I can’t marry you, Emily,” he said. Seven words that carved through me sharper than any scalpel I’d ever held. Our wedding was sixteen days away.
“What?” I whispered.
He leaned back, a man unburdened. “It’s not you. It’s just… we’re heading in different directions. I’ve made important connections. Megan Langley and I are aligned in ways I didn’t see before.”
