I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Chapter 30 - 31 Guilt-trip

Chapter 30: Chapter 31 Guilt-trip

I didn’t even move. Something told me I didn’t need to.

Before her palm could come down, a hand shot past my shoulder and clamped down on her wrist, shoved her backwards.

Willow stumbled, arms flailing for balance.

Her head whipped up, ready to mouth off, but the second she clocked Ashton’s face, she faltered.

Hard to keep swinging when the guy pinning your arm looked like he could snap you in half for blinking wrong.

She yanked her hand free with a pathetic little noise. ‘And who the hell are you?’ she barked. ‘Why’re you getting in the way? You...’

Her voice got quieter the longer Ashton stared her down.

Willow shifted from foot to foot, tried to size him up, and then her eyes flicked to me, and to the jacket hanging off my shoulders. ‘That’s his coat, right? Your new boyfriend?’

She folded her arms, sneering. ‘When did you start sneaking around behind my brother’s back, huh? You bang on about Rhys cheating, but look at you! Wearing some random guy’s jacket like a badge of honour.’

‘I don’t have to explain myself to you, Willow. You know damn well Rhys and I are over.’

She flapped a hand at me like I was a bad smell. ‘Save it. Get out.’

I planted my feet. ‘I’m staying till Aunt Louisa wakes up.’

Willow’s face twisted. ‘You’re not wanted here!’

From the corner of my eye, I caught Clive Granger standing up from his chair. He took his sweet time covering the short distance between us.

He was pissed too. No surprise there. In his head, I’d practically murdered his wife.

But at least he kept his loathing on a leash, unlike Willow.

Clive stopped a few feet from me and said, all fake-polite, ‘Louisa’s sick because of you. You breaking off the engagement has really hurt her. Shocked her into a heart attack. I don’t think she wants to see you when she wakes up. Best you leave now.’

I kept my chin up. ‘Uncle Clive, whether she wants to see me or not is her decision. Not yours.’

His jaw twitched, just a little. Before he could spit something back, Ashton cut in, ‘Mirabelle staying won’t disturb anyone. She’s worried about Mrs Granger’s health. Let her stay till Mrs Granger wakes up.’

Clive’s eyes sharpened. ‘And you are?’

Ashton reached out, offering his hand. ‘Ashton Laurent. Nice to meet you, Mr Granger.’

For a second, Clive just stared at Ashton’s hand like it was a snake about to bite him. Then he shook it hesitatingly. ‘Mr... Mr Laurent... Um, thank you for coming. I appreciate your concern, but...’ He glanced at me. ‘You may now know the full story here. It’s complicated. Mirabelle—’

‘I know enough,’ Ashton cut him off. ‘I was at the party too. I saw everything. Mirabelle and Rhys Granger have been done for a while. Besides, Rhys showed up tonight flashing a new girlfriend like a trophy. Mirabelle asking to end the engagement was the polite part. She didn’t even say half of what she could’ve. Honestly, she gave Rhys and the whole Granger family a hell of a lot more dignity than they deserved.’

Clive looked like he was about to argue, but Ashton just kept going.

‘It’s the twenty-first century. Are the Grangers still playing medieval lord and vassal? Treating Mirabelle like she’s some mail-order bride? Or maybe Rhys thinks he’s got royal blood, getting engaged to Mira while juggling a side chick? What’s next, a crown and a sceptre?’

I could’ve kissed Ashton right there. Maybe even married him.

Clive’s face went from tired to full-on corpse grey. ‘It’s not that she can’t break it off,’ he mumbled. ‘But... Rhys... he’s just made a mistake, is all. But that doesn’t mean Mirabelle should’ve broken off the engagement so rashly. Especially not in public like that. Marriage isn’t a joke. Louisa was’—he glanced at me with something halfway between guilt and accusation—‘very shocked. And sad.’

I took a step forward, but Ashton gave my arm a soothing pat.

‘You’re right. Marriage isn’t a joke. That’s exactly why Mirabelle ended it when she realised Rhys wasn’t taking it seriously. He violated the whole point of it by parading around another woman while he claimed to be still engaged to Mirabelle.’

Clive’s mouth opened, but Ashton continued before he could get a word in.

‘If infidelity isn’t a strong enough reason to call off an engagement, what is?’

The room felt like it was holding its breath.

‘And what are you suggesting, Mr Granger? That Mirabelle should’ve smiled, swallowed it, and walked down the aisle anyway? Sacrificed her happiness just to keep you and your wife from losing face? What do you take her for—a tool to polish up your family image?’

Clive flinched, but Ashton wasn’t done.

‘And blaming your wife’s heart attack on her? That’s low. Guilt-tripping her into resuming the engagement? Even lower.’

Clive’s mouth worked soundlessly for a second. He looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor.

‘I... You’re right,’ he finally muttered. ‘It’s not Mirabelle’s fault.’

‘Then maybe ease up on your attitude. From where I’m standing, you lot are coming off petty and downright unreasonable.’

Clive nodded lamely. ‘Yes, yes, we were... too hasty. If Mirabelle wants to stay and wait for Louisa to wake up, she’s welcome to.’

Just like that, the tension cracked and fizzled out.

We ended up sitting around outside the operating theatre, all awkward and chilly.

I sat on one end, Willow and Clive huddled at the other, the gap between us wider than a four-lane.

I owed Ashton a lot. Words like ‘thank you’ felt lame and plastic, so I swallowed them down.

Ashton hadn’t been gone five minutes before he came striding back, a paper bag dangling from his hand.

He stopped in front of me, pulled out a cup of coffee, and handed it over. ‘It’s cold tonight. Better to have something warm to hold onto.’

I took it, the heat seeping into my frozen fingers. ‘Thanks.’

Then he bent down and fished out a pair of fluffy slippers from the same bag, dropping them neatly at my feet.

He nodded at me, like, go on then.