Bella pov
I didn’t know which was more painful, having to sit here planning another wedding when the first one I had ended in nothing but humiliation and a broken heart, or having to do it with the man who caused all of that sitting directly across from me.
Rhys Miller looked sober today, which was unusual. No cigarette between his lips when he walked in, no smell of smoke clinging to his clothes. Just him in a black shirt with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, that cold expression carved into his face like it belonged there. When we’d walked in fifteen minutes ago he hadn’t even glanced my way, just dropped into his chair and pulled out his phone like I wasn’t worth acknowledging.
Meanwhile I’d stolen at least five glances at him already and hated myself for every single one.
“So
