The words rang in his head, over and over, as the hot shower rained down on him. She didn’t mean it. She was just afraid, desperate.
But desperation wasn’t where those words had come from. One look in Beth’s eyes had shown him that her confession came from somewhere far deeper.
She loved him. He couldn’t pretend that she didn’t know what she was getting into. He may not have known her long but he’d already shared more with her than any other woman he’d been with. She’d peered into all his dark corners and still made a place in her heart for him.
Her strength, her resolve, her charm—they all amazed him. He would do anything to keep her safe and happy and by his side. Damn the consequences. If this wasn't love, he didn't know what was.
The realization hit him like a hit to the gut.
Love.
He loved her. He didn't just want her in his bed; he wanted her in his life. But for that to happen, he was going to have to get her through this day alive.
He stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He found Beth curled up on the bed, hands covering her eyes.
“Beth?” he asked. She was sobbing. His heart sank. He should have told her how he felt the second she’d said the words.
She looked up, her eyes puffy and red.
“The dress,” she said. Her voice was shaking so badly that he barely made out the words.
“The dress?” he asked. It was draped across the bed. He picked up the pile of lavender silk. This was what was making her cry?
“He shot it,” she said. “Three months...okay...three weeks of near starvation, just to fit into the damned thing, and that son-of-a-bitch ruins everything.”
Alex looked down at the dress in his hands. Sure enough, there was a jagged hole through the waist.
Alex hid the smile that was starting to pull at his lips. After all that she had been through, this was what was going to push her over the edge.
“It's going to be okay,” he said, sitting next to her and putting his arms around her shoulders.
The look she shot him said otherwise. “You don't understand.”
“Maybe I don't. Why don't you tell me?”
“It's not the dress,” she said. “Well, it is, but it isn't.”
“Okay,” he said slowly.
“It's everything. All the crap that's been going on with Spencer, and my family, and Isobel getting married. And don’t get me started with the attempts on my life. The one thing that kept me going strong instead of running for the hills was how good I was going to look in that dress. I know it sounds crazy.”
“No, it doesn't,” he said, even though it did.
She wiped at her eyes and glared at him. “Of course, it sounds crazy. It is crazy. But it's still true. I just wanted to be perfect in that dress, and now some bastard has shot it.”
He didn't quite understand. And maybe he'd have to spend his whole life with her before he ever did.
“And the funny thing is that now I wish that I had taken a shot at him. Not for trying to kill me. But for ruining this stupid, ugly bridesmaid dress.”
She was laughing now. Laughing while she cried. Alex kept his arm draped around her shoulder. But he thought it might be better if he didn't say a word. She seemed to be doing fine just talking on her own.
Suddenly, she stood up. “Let's get these bastards today,” she said, resolve shining in her eyes along with her tears. “I'm not going to let anyone ruin another damn thing in my life.”
Alex smiled. That was a sentiment that he could get behind. He wasn't sure how she got there with a dress, but he supposed that didn't much matter.
“All right, then,” she announced, turning toward the wardrobe. “I'm going to need a sweater.”