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will , of course , come to the wedding,” continued Aunt Olivia, clearly —and thankfully— oblivious to the devastation he could practically feel oozing from his skin. “It wouldn’t be the same without the presence of Callie’s dearest friend.”
    Escape. Christ Jesus , he had to escape. Now. Now . Before he humiliated himself. They’d know something was amiss, but he didn’t care. He had to get away. He quickly pushed back his chair and stood. Muttered the first words that came into his numb brain. Something about needing to rise extra early to pack a shipment. The excuse sounded lame, the words rushed and hoarse, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Except getting the hell out. He mumbled a hasty thank you for the meal and strode from the dining room as quickly as his unsteady legs could propel him.
    “Good heavens, I hope the dear boy isn’t unwell,” Aunt Olivia’s booming declaration followed him into the corridor. “He looked positively peaked.”
    “Aunt Olivia,” came Callie’s raised voice, “why did you — ?”
    He exited the cottage, closing the door behind him, cutting off her words.
    He briefly squeezed his eyes shut against the suffocating anguish. Damn it, he’d known this day would come. Had known it would hurt. But the reality of it … actually hearing that another man loved her, that she cared for him in return, that an engagement was imminent … bloody hell, the pain simply stole his breath. How was it possible to feel so gutted and empty, yet hurt so badly?
    He didn’t know. He only knew that this ache in his heart would worsen until it peaked on the day she married.
    And then it would live with him for the rest of his life.

CHAPTER FOUR
     
    The full moon cast a silvery glow on the path that wound through the gardens behind Albright C ottage. Not that Callie required any light. She could have navigated the acres of beloved trails with her eyes closed, using only her memory and sense of smell to guide her past the abundance of roses, lilacs, and the dozens of other plants and bushes that had flourished first under her mother’s loving hand, then Hayley’s, and now Pamela’s.
    The garden normally filled her with a sense of peace, especially on nights like this, when a cool, flower-scented breeze caressed her skin and the calming silence was broken only by the occasional hoot of an owl. But no peace infused her now. Tonight , only self-reproach and despair filled her.
    She’d completely failed in her mission to share a kiss with William, a bitter disappointment, especially since the evening had started with such promise. All during dinner, as they’d reminisced and laughed and caught up with each other ’ s lives, she’d secretly counted the moments until the meal would end, when she could put her plan into action. First a casual suggestion to stroll in the gardens, one she knew Aunt Olivia would beg off from as she disliked walking in the dark. Then subtly steering them toward the path leading to the lake , where they were assured complete privacy.
    Kissing William.
    And finally, finally knowing how it felt for her lips to touch those of the man she loved. Even if the moment ended in rejection, at least she’d have that one kiss. And if the moment didn’t end in rejection … if the kiss were to ignite William’s passions …
    But then , to her utter horror , Aunt Olivia had brought up talk of an engagement. And in a blink , the laughter had died along with her plans. If she lived to be one hundred , she’d never forget William’s utterly blank expression after hearing that an engagement was imminent. During those few seconds when their gazes had locked , she’d searched his dark brown depths for some indication of his feelings but saw only emptiness. Then he’d turned away, as if he couldn’t bear to look at her, flooding her with despair.
    Clearly , he believed she’d been less than forthcoming with him. And she couldn’t blame him , as Aunt Olivia’s words