He didn't know about the engagement. I hadn't posted about it online, we didn't have mutual friends anymore, and Heath didn't follow the society pages, which meant I had to tell him. I couldn't lie by omission and let him think there was a chance of us getting back together.
Heath: If you want to, of course
I could practically see him pushing his hand through his hair the way he always did when he was nervous.
My teeth dug into my bottom lip.
I knew part of the reason he'd worked so hard on the startup was to prove my parents wrong. They'd been furious when they found out I'd kept our relationship from them for years and even more furious when they discovered Heath didn't come from an "appropriate" background.
At the time, he'd made a good living as a software engineer who'd worked on his app on the side, but he wasn't a Russo or a Young. My father had threatened to disown me if I didn't end things with Heath, and in the end, I'd chosen family over love.
Heath probably thought my parents would change their minds after his company went public and he became a millionaire. I didn't have the heart to tell him they wouldn't.
My family had plenty of money, but we were nouveau riche. No matter how much we donated to charity or how many zeroes we had in our bank accounts, certain parts of society would always remain closed to us…unlesswe married into old money.
Heath would never be old money, which meant my parents would never approve of him as a love match.
Just tell him.
I eased a deep breath into my lungs before I bit the bullet.
Me: I'm engaged
It wasn't the smoothest transition, but it was short, clear, and direct.
I resisted falling back into my childhood habit of biting my nails while I waited for a reply.
It never came.
Me: It happened a few weeks ago. My parents set it up.
Me: I meant to tell you earlier
I should stop, but I couldn't hold back my text version of word vomit.
Me: The wedding is in a year.
Crickets.
Five minutes passed, but my phone remained dark and silent.
I let out a small groan and tossed it to the side.
Ishouldn'tfeel guilty. Heath and I broke up a long time ago and, honestly, I was surprised he wanted a second chance. I would've thought—
A soft knock interrupted the chaos of my thoughts.
I sucked in another lungful of air and smoothed my expression into one of polite neutrality before I answered. "Come in."
The door opened, revealing distinguished silver hair and a perfectly pressed black suit.
Edward, Dante's butler.
"Ms. Vivian, Mr. Dante requested I take you on a full tour of the house," he said, his British accent as crisp as his clothes. "Is now a good time, or would you like me to return at an hour of your choosing?"
I glanced at my phone, then at the cold, beautiful room around me.
Like it or not, this was now my home. I could lock myself in my suite, throw a pity party, and agonize over the past, or I could try and make the most of my situation.