They put me in the room next to his on purpose.
“Family wing,” my mother said, drunk on champagne and the fact that she was marrying money. “Declan’s just across the hall if you need anything.”
I needed a locked door and a plane ticket. What I got was a guest suite in a house big enough to hide sins in, a rehearsal dinner that lasted too long, and my brand-new step-uncle watching my mouth every time I drank.
Declan Crowe. Forty-six. My stepfather’s older brother. Widower. The one who paid for the wedding and looked at me like the check had bought something else.
I’m Paige Lang. Twenty-three. I flew in for four days, a bridesmaid dress that cut too low, and the stupid hope that I could smile through this and leave untouched.
The house went quiet after midnight. My mother was in the mas
