Distracted by A.K. Evans

ONE

Ellery

Eight years earlier

One year down. Three to go.

One year closer to fulfilling my dreams.

As I made the turn onto the street I lived on, I felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment move through me.

I’d just finished my first year at college, and I was finally heading home. I’d enjoyed my freshman year immensely, but I had to admit that I was excited about the summer break, because it meant I’d have time to start and possibly finish what had been swirling around in my head for months now.

A new story.

For as long as I could remember, I’d wanted to be a writer. As a reader, I loved thrillers. As a writer, I loved fantasy. I had at least half a dozen stories that I’d started prior to heading into college, but I hadn’t exactly finished any of them. I had intended to spend some time over this summer putting the finishing touches on one or two of them.

But it seemed plans were changing.

Because several months ago, in the middle of my Introduction to Academic Writing class, I’d had an idea for a new story come to me. It hit me out of nowhere, and I immediately pulled out a notebook, so I could start jotting down ideas.

If there was one thing I’d learned in my quest to become an author, it was that it was never a wise idea to assume I’d remember details of anything, no matter how good or unforgettable I believed they were.

I always wrote my ideas down.

Ever since I scribbled down those first few notes about that story, new scenes had been popping into my mind. Whenever that happened, I always pulled out my notebook. If that was unavailable, I typed them into my phone.

I didn’t care where they were, as long as I’d gotten them out of my head and somewhere safe.

And now that my summer break had arrived, I’d finally be able to organize everything and put it all together.

I intended to work on it every day until it was completed. I couldn’t wait to begin, so after I got home and caught up for a few minutes with my parents, I’d probably dive right in.

My parents were going to be thrilled when I told them.

I smiled just thinking about what their reactions would be. For as long as I could remember, my mom and dad had supported me in everything I did. They had no expectations about who I was supposed to be, giving me the freedom to explore and figure out what things made me happy. Whenever something captured my interest, they put everything they could behind it, behind me.

So, when I told them, many years ago, that it was my dream to become a writer, they assured me they’d be right behind me every step of the way, until I topped the bestseller charts.

By the time I turned off the road and into the driveway, I was bursting at the seams with excitement. This was the best idea for a story that I’d had yet. I couldn’t wait to get started.

As I approached the house, I saw an unfamiliar car sitting outside the garage. I assumed someone had to be visiting, since we were diligent about keeping our cars inside the garages.

Yes, garages.

We had a beautiful home.

My father, Vernon Cross, was a commercial real estate land developer and the owner of Cross Development Group. He had done exceptionally well in his career over the years. I hadn’t wanted for anything as a child, but the truth was that my parents taught me the importance of hard work.

I never expected to have anything handed to me. My mom and dad might have provided us with opportunities, but they expected my younger sister, Ainsley, and me to put in the work to become successful all on our own.

After parking my car in the garage, I gathered up my things and made my way inside.

I had a smile on my face and a bounce in my step as I moved through the house in search of my parents.

“Mom?” I called out. “Dad?”

A moment later, just as I was about to pass by it, the door to my father’s home office opened. My mom stepped out, and I was so caught up in the good vibes I was feeling that I missed the strange look on her face.

“Oh, hey. I was wondering where you guys were,” I said, moving close to hug her. “Is dad in there?”

She nodded. “Yes, but he’s in a meeting.”

Well, that explained the car I hadn’t recognized outside.

For some strange reason, I completely ignored the fact that she said he’d been in a meeting, yet she’d just walked out of his office. My mom never sat in on my father’s meetings.

I folded my arms around my mom, looked into my father’s office, and saw him sitting behind his desk. I held up my hand to wave and smiled brightly at him. That’s when a man I didn’t recognize came into view.

“Is this your daughter, Vernon?” the man asked my father.

My mom loosened her hold on me and stepped back as my dad answered, “Yes.”

Not wanting to be rude, I stepped into the office to greet the man. I didn’t give it a second thought, since I’d met several of my father’s business associates over the years when they’d come by for a meeting.

Once I had moved into the room, my father stood and walked in my direction. He curled an arm around my back and allowed his hand to settle on my opposite shoulder as he kissed the top of my head. “Preston, this is Ellery. She’s my oldest.”

Preston turned his attention to me, extended his hand, and said, “It’s lovely to meet you, dear.”

I shook his hand and smiled. “Likewise.”

My father looked down at me and asked, “All finished?”

I nodded with a huge grin on my face. “I’m so excited, too, because I’ve had an idea brewing for months now, so I want to get started on it right away.”

With a look of pride on his face, my dad returned his attention to Preston and shared, “Ellery just finished her first year at college.”

Preston’s brows shot up. “That’s exciting. And are you planning to take over here at Cross Development Group when your old man is ready to retire?”

I shook my head. “No. No, I’m studying to get my degree in English.”

“Ah, I see.”

At that moment, a door slammed. “Mom!”

Ainsley was home from school.

My mom stepped out into the hall and called back, “We’re in your father’s office, Ainsley.”

Barely thirty seconds later, my sister walked in.

“And this is my youngest, Ainsley,” my dad declared as my sister moved toward us. She glanced at Preston briefly, but quickly turned her gaze to me.

“You’re back,” she said to me. “Are you done?”

“Yes,” I stated proudly.

“Ugh, you’re so lucky,” she groaned. “I still have another month left.”

My sister was fifteen, so she was still in high school. And in our lives, Ainsley and I were as far apart in our likes and dislikes as we were in age. She was my complete opposite. Between the two of us, Ainsley was the one most likely to take over for our dad when he was ready to retire.

“Girls, how about you go out in the kitchen while your father finishes up in here?” my mom suggested. “I just pulled some freshly baked zucchini bread out of the oven earlier today.”

My stomach rumbled at the mere mention of my mom’s zucchini bread. If there was one thing that could be said about Carla Cross, it was that she excelled in the kitchen. It didn’t matter if she was making dinner or whipping up freshly baked treats. I’d yet to taste a single thing she made that wasn’t absolutely delicious.

If she’d wanted to, there was no question my mom could have been a professional chef. She could have had her own bakery, if she’d been interested in owning one.

But that wasn’t of any interest to her.

With the life my father had provided for us, she was fortunate enough to stay home with my sister and me while we were young. She enjoyed being a homemaker, and there was no question that my sister and I were both grateful for it.

“Okay,” Ainsley replied as she moved in that direction.

I looked back at my dad, gave him a hug, and asked, “Can I talk to you about my idea when you’re finished?”

“Of course, Ellery. Preston and I should be finished up here shortly,” he returned.

When I glanced at Preston, I saw a pensive look on his face. “Yes, I suspect you father and I will now be able to work out the terms of our agreement rather quickly, dear.”

With that, I dipped my chin, exited the room, and made my way toward the kitchen to catch up with my sister.

And that was part of the problem.

I was so excited about being done with school for the next several weeks and all the time I was going to have on my hands, so that I’d be able to get down to working on my new project, that I didn’t take notice to the things that I should have.

But an hour later, I realized what I had missed.

It suddenly dawned on me that my mom had closed the door to my dad’s office only after she went back inside, wearing the same concerned look on her face she had when she originally stepped out to greet me.

And I recalled the tension I’d felt in my father’s frame when he stood beside me as he introduced me to Preston.

Those should have been red flags.

They should have given me reason for pause.

Granted, even if I had noticed, I wasn’t sure it would have changed the outcome.

Because before Preston left, I learned precisely how much my parents had been hiding from me.

My dad’s business was in trouble—trouble of epic proportions—and Preston was the only man who could save it. Unfortunately, the terms were high, and it was me who was going to pay the price.

My eyes drifted down over the reflection of my body in the mirror.

I looked beautiful, and the dress was gorgeous.

Sadly, the way I felt on the inside did not match my outward appearance.

Inside, I felt numb.

Dead.

I mean, that shouldn’t have been entirely unbelievable either, considering I felt as though there had been a death of sorts.

My future was done.

Gone.

Any of the hopes and dreams I’d had about my future had been flushed down the toilet, and somehow, even though I was sad, I couldn’t bring myself to be angry.

I had to do this for my family.

And the worst part about it all was that I had to pretend it wasn’t going to kill me inside to do it. I had to put on a happy face and act like this was everything I’d wanted in my life.

When my eyes finally made it to my face, it was a wonder I could recognize the woman staring back at me. All that I thought I knew about myself seemed to have vanished, and I felt like I was quickly losing hold on the person I was.

Everything inside me was screaming at me to run away, to stop this before it started. If I didn’t, the overwhelming devastation and loss I felt now would only get worse as time went on.

This was insanity. What woman, let alone a nineteen-year-old girl, marries someone she just met for the first time two months ago? In the instant I asked myself that question, my heart immediately went out to all the women and girls who had been forced into arranged marriages. This felt like it was going to be the worst kind of prison.

I didn’t know him.

We hadn’t dated.

He knew nothing about what I liked or disliked.

And yet, I was standing here now in a wedding dress, so I could marry him.

I couldn’t do it.

The moment that thought filtered through my mind, the door to the room opened, and my dad walked in. Any resolve I had to walk away from this evaporated. Part of my reason for doing this was walking right toward me.

My dad looked utterly broken, just as broken as my mom had looked before she left me in this room to go and seek him out. If anything, my father might have been worse off than my mother.

This was taking its toll on him, and he felt beyond responsible.

As it turned out, my father’s company had gotten involved in a big project. No, not just big. It was massive. Huge. Enormous.

There was a multimillion-dollar mall being built.

With that project, my father had relied on several investors to cover the majority of the costs. But at the last minute, one of the investors backed out. It wasn’t uncommon for something like that to happen, though it occasionally did.

The downside in this case was that my dad had been so confident about this project that he leveraged our personal assets to make up the difference of what was needed to secure the necessary funding. Without the investor, the project wouldn’t proceed, and no matter how many people he’d attempted to reach out to, nobody was willing to make the commitment.

Nobody besides Preston Crespo.

Desperate to save our family from losing everything, my father took a meeting with Preston. They had been struggling to work out the terms that day they’d been meeting in the office, but after meeting me, Preston had an idea.

“I want to tell you that you look beautiful, Ellery,” my dad said, his voice thick with emotion. “Because you do look beautiful. But this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. I can’t let you do this.”

He’d fought this from the first moment he realized what Preston wanted.

Not wanting him to feel any more guilt than he already felt, I smiled at him. “It’s okay, Dad. It’s going to be okay.”

“You don’t love him,” he argued.

I wouldn’t lie about that, but I had to try to find something positive to say. “Maybe, over time, I’ll learn to love him. With planning this wedding, it wasn’t like I had much time to really get to know him.”

He took my hand in his and squeezed. “You’re supposed to be in love with the man you’re marrying. You shouldn’t have to learn to love him. You should be in love.”

I shrugged, continuing to smile, and reasoned, “Things could be worse. Besides, Patrick seems to be a really nice guy, and it’s clear that he and his family can take care of me. Plus, we’ve all agreed that I will remain in school and finish my degree.”

He nodded. “Yes, I’m grateful for that. But I’m still struggling to be able to walk you down the aisle.”

“Dad, you have to,” I told him. “Everybody is expecting this, and you need to make them believe this is what we all want.”

“But it’s not what I want. I don’t want my nineteen-year-old daughter marrying a twenty-seven-year-old man who knows nothing about her,” he pointed out. “This isn’t the life I wanted for you.”

God, this was eating him alive. I was going to have to be more convincing that this was all going to be okay.

“Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be a great life,” I reasoned. “It’s not what we would have chosen in a perfect world, but that doesn’t mean it can’t still be wonderful.”

His eyes roamed over my face, anguish present in them. “You really are beautiful,” he croaked.

Tears welled in my eyes. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Your family owes you everything. I owe you everything.”

“No, you don’t. I love all of you, and this is the best way I can think to show it,” I said.

In the back of my mind, I was convinced he believed this would be forever. It was my hope it wouldn’t come to that. He needed to do what needed to be done to finish his project. Given the size, I knew it would take a few years, but in the end, I intended to get out. There were stipulations to the agreement, so I knew I wouldn’t just be able to file for divorce like it was no big deal.

But when the time was right, I’d find a way to save myself from this disaster. For now, I’d stay focused on what was right in front of me. I wouldn’t allow myself to dream of what might come down the line.

I would do this for my family.

I’d walk down the aisle and marry a man I didn’t love to save them from the humiliation and embarrassment that would come their way if I didn’t.

I’d do it to save our home.

I’d do it to protect my sister.

I’d do it to ensure my parents’ future and everything my father had worked for wouldn’t be lost.

It was going to cost me, but for my family, I’d do anything.

And that was the problem with being young and naïve.

I linked my arm through my father’s and urged him to walk me down the aisle, ignoring the nagging voice in the back of my mind telling me to beg him to save me from the nightmare I was about to enter.