“He left several messages earlier but I haven’t had the chance nor the inclination to talk to him.”

“I can’t believe you never said a word of this when you called earlier. And there I was going on about our dinner plans like an idiot.” But Payton had been sitting in the baggage office while Cruz filled out the paperwork for their missing luggage and hadn’t thought it was the moment to dump the horrid mess on Kate. She didn’t want to risk having a nervous breakdown in such a public place. It was easier to pretend everything was fine.

Now, she didn’t have to pretend. And the uncomfortable pressure rising in her throat and to her eyes, where tears pooled, was too heavy to ignore. She tried to muffle a sob as hot tears slipped down her temples and into her hairline.

“Everything will work out, you’ll see,” Kate said in a warm and comforting manner. “I’ll field calls from your mother in the meantime. You never did tell me what happened to your phone.”

A little sheepishly, Payton said, “I—I chucked it out the window.”

“Okay. That’s one way to avoid your mother’s calls.” Kate sounded like she was trying not to laugh. “But you’ll be here tomorrow and we can get through this. You need some time to decide what you’re going to do. Just don’t make any hasty decisions. At least until you’ve had a chance to talk to Brad. Are you thinking of calling him?”

“Not right now. I need some time to process. We can talk when I get back home.” Payton stared at the ceiling, surprised to feel a little better having shared everything with her best friend. Her best friend who was two nights away from marrying her soul mate. Crap. She wasn’t being a very good maid of honor. “I’m sorry,” Payton whispered.

“For what?”

“It’s your wedding weekend and here I am bringing you down. Making it about me.”

“Oh, Payton. That’s not what you’re doing. You’ve always been there for me. Back when Michael dumped me and I took more than a year to get over it, you were always there to cheer me up. Always. And when Dominic came into my life, you were so supportive. Like always. Being supportive for you now is the least I can do. And I should remind you of what you told me way back when I thought my heart was breaking. Things will get better. Something better will come along. I promise.”

Payton nodded, knowing her friend couldn’t see the gesture but would understand.

“So how are things with you and my future brother-in-law? Stuck in a car together? I can’t believe you haven’t killed each other yet. Not after the way you two hit it off at my birthday party.”

The sarcasm was clear since the only way she and Cruz hit it off that night was in that they both agreed they couldn’t stand the other. Probably starting when she overheard Cruz asking his brother in a derisive tone if “the prom queen” had arrived or if she’d gotten lost and needed a rescue crew. She’d been standing right behind him, Kate’s yellow roses in her arms. The jibe was even more biting when he turned around for an awkward introduction and the seconds passed infinitely slowly as they recognized each other from the flower shop. When, for a fleeting moment, she had thought him charming.

“Accidentally” slamming the vase against the side of his temple had made her feel a little better. It had also given her perverse satisfaction to torment Cruz through the night with quips about his height, his appetite, whatever she could think of that would get a rise from the brooding hulk. To be fair, most people usually laughed and deflected her comments, but Cruz only grew moodier, barely grunting a response. The thought of seeing him again at the wedding had not been something she looked forward to, but she’d thought Brad would be at her side to help ease her pain.

That plan hadn’t worked out so well.

“Cruz and I have reached a sort of tentative treaty. We’re focusing on getting to Puerto Vallarta for now.” True enough, even if they had a rocky start initially. But she had to give him credit. If it weren’t for him, she’d still be in Laredo waiting to catch a morning flight back to Dallas and praying she’d find a seat on a plane—any plane—heading into Puerto Vallarta. She would never have dared to make this kind of trip on her own.

She could hear a male voice on the other end, probably Kate’s soon-to-be husband. They needed time alone. “You know, I’m pretty wiped out and you need to get back to that fiancé of yours. Tell Dominic I said hi.”

“I will. And remember, I’m always here for you, Payton. Love you.”

Payton dropped the phone on the bed next to her and continued to stare up at the ceiling. Talking to her friend had been cathartic, no matter how brief the conversation had been. And for the first time, she was ready to think about how she felt about her discovery. To touch and prod the wound.

Hurt. Betrayed. Humiliated. Definitely all fit the bill, but… She thought about Kate’s sadness when she’d broken up with her skeazy boyfriend, Michael, and then later when she ended things with Dominic before she knew the depth of her feelings for him. Her friend had been heartbroken, but infinitely more so about the latter. The pain evident in her eyes.

Was Payton’s heart breaking at the thought that Brad had been cheating on her? She wasn’t so sure. Was she ready to draw blood from him if he were in this room now? Undoubtedly. But after she’d physically maimed him, was she going to feel that deep sense of loss and sadness, like she’d lost almost a part of her heart, as she’d sensed with Kate?

It was an uncomfortable truth to know that she wouldn’t.

Maybe she was wired differently than Kate about these kinds of things. For all Kate’s bristly nature, she was a softie underneath. Wanting the unattainable—a happily ever after. Payton had never had any illusions that such a thing really existed. So maybe that’s why she didn’t feel things on a deep level like her friend.

This truth didn’t, however, diminish the pain she felt at Brad’s betrayal. Because she loved him. Truly she did. He was a good friend, a good companion. And they would have had a wonderful, perfect life together because they were so compatible. Same family background, same social connections. They were…well matched. Like a perfect china set.

And in one moment of truth, one ill-timed phone call, their future together was now in question. She couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—lead her mother’s life.

She remembered the night Brad proposed. Always so cocky and full of himself, but in an endearing way, he had actually been a little nervous when he gave her that ring. He promised her a good life. His love and devotion. And in that moment, she was happy. Content.

Tears pooled in her eyes again and fell. She didn’t try to stem them this time, even as their saltiness reached the creases in the corner of her mouth.

She didn’t know how long she laid there, tears streaming down, when she heard the short rapping of knuckles on her door. Cruz.

She sat up, wiping her tears away, trying to compose herself. “Just a minute.” She stopped in the bathroom, hating the splotchy way her face looked, and splashed some cool water on before drying off on a towel.

When she opened the door a minute later, Cruz looked almost worried standing there with his brows furrowed. His brown eyes staring at her with intensity and concern instead of his usual disdain. He didn’t wait for her to ask him to come in. He just stepped inside and shut the door. He reached his hand out and rested it on her shoulder. It felt good, heavy and solid.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He’s actually worried about me.

Damn, damn, damn. The tears pooled again, and she tried to laugh. “Don’t mind me. It’s just a mild break down. I’ll be my normal chipper self by morning. Tomorrow night at the latest.”

He didn’t argue, only led her to the bed and helped her take a seat. He grabbed the chair at the desk and pulled it over and sat down, leaning forward as he faced her. “You know, whatever it is, you might feel better if you talked about it. If it helps, I have a pretty good idea what’s going on. I heard some of your conversation with your mother. And of course, there was the whole Boobalicious reference.”