Vows and Vengeance

As I sat at my oak-wood desk, looking over the neon yellow notices worth tens of thousands of dollars in back taxes and overdue utility bills I have to pay to keep my two-story office building afloat—I could only think to myself, is this what my life had come to? Ring. Ring. The business phone cut through the deafening silence. I begrudgingly put aside my piles of bills and put on my most enthusiastic customer service voice as I picked up the phone. "White Lily Wedding Planning, this is Lindsay speaking! How may I be of assistance to you?" "Hi Lindsay, my name is Susan Davies and I would love your company’s assistance in planning my wedding," a smooth, melodic voice chimed through the receiver. "I was wondering if I could come in later today with my fiancé so we could discuss how to go about it?" Davies. There was only one Davies family in New Haven, Connecticut. The Davies corporation practically ran this city, and they had only one daughter. Why on earth would the heir of the Davies Corporation, a multi-million-dollar empire, want a run-down wedding planning business to plan her presumably lavish wedding? A Davies wedding planning budget could pay off my bills in one go. “Alright Susan, you and your fiancé could come in any time from 4 to 5 PM to discuss the specifics” I replied, almost sounding automated. “Wonderful. See you then.” The line clicked. I glanced at the clock on the opposite wall whose paint was peeling and had obvious cracks. It was 10 AM. I went down to the lobby. I looked around at the cracked, dusty flower vases, the peeling white wallpaper that had turned to a sad grey, and the dusty, creaky wooden floors. “This place is a mess.” White Lily was my passion project. I loved love, and I wanted to help couples enjoy what should be the best day of their lives, I thought running this business would be easy. I was 21 and naive. I built this place with my first love, Darren White. He always encouraged my stupid unrealistic dreams and he funded my business with anything and everything I needed. Darren had the connections, the charm, and endless capital—even if I never quite understood where his money came from. He had no family in New Haven, shared my cramped studio apartment, yet somehow had the funds to buy me an entire building. I never questioned it. He was a grown man; I trusted him. Until the day he disappeared. Went out one day and just didn’t come back. I spent months calling, texting, searching for any indication that he was still alive. Nothing. It was just an eight-month-long relationship but we definitely loved each other, even if it had its ups and downs. Darren gave me this building, but the moment he disappeared, my luck went with him. It had been seven long years, seven years of keeping his memory in this building while he was off playing ghost. I was over the heartache—now I’m just bitter that he left me with the property taxes. But today, Susan Davies would be walking through my doors— and I had six hours to pull myself together and market this place. I put away my bills and started cleaning up the lobby. Six hours passed as I toiled and laboured to make the lobby look slightly presentable and before I knew it, Susan had stuck her head through the glass swinging doors. “Hello! I made a call earlier this morning and I was told to come by this time?” She chimed in, while looking at my dusty cleaning apron, which I put on to avoid getting my tailored dress shirt dirty from all the cleaning. I glanced at my watch and realized it was already 4:20. “Oh my days!” I exclaimed as I rushed to put away the rest of the cleaning supplies as well as my apron. “Come in! Have a seat, I'll be right back.” I can’t attend to these high-profile clients looking so scruffed up. I ran up to my office’s restroom to clean myself up and splash some water on my face. I looked into the bathroom mirror, the business stress had really taken a toll on my skin. I'm just 28 for goodness' sake and my age is already showing. I put myself together and went back down to see Susan sitting on the reception’s waiting chair. Susan was a blonde bombshell, I don't think I've ever seen a woman as beautiful. The Davies heiress was one of the most eligible spinsters out there, I wondered who the lucky man was that managed to bag her. I barely glanced at her fiancé. “You both can join me in my office now.” I turned back and started making my way to my office upstairs. “Right this way, my office is just—” “Lindsay?” A male voice interrupted The voice hit my spine like a bucket of ice water. Low, smooth, with that faint, effortless rasp I used to hear whispered against my neck in the dark. “Is that really you?” He continued. My shoes locked against the hardwood floor. My heart did a violent, sickening flip in my chest. No. It's just a coincidence. There are a million men with that voice. Slowly, painfully, I turned around. Standing beside the Davies heiress—wearing a suit that probably cost more than my entire back-tax bill—was the man who ruined my life. Seven years older, his hair cut sharper, a gold watch glinting at his wrist. But those dark, calculating eyes were identical. Darren f*****g White.