Read Online A Moment of Truth: A Complete Bonus Set (A Matter of Trust #1-2) by Q. T. Ruby - Free Book Online Page A

these people?”
    I stand next to him, shorter now without my shoes on. I give him a quick tour with my fingers. “Those are my brothers there. These are my parents.” My dad, tall and strong with his wavy black hair, and my slender mom with her short, fiery red hair are a striking pair.
    Dan leans into the photo, then looks at me, and then back at the photo.
    “I can see how your brothers look like your parents, but you . . . you don’t really. Are you adopted?”
    “No. I feel that way sometimes, but no. I’m just the recessive one. Odd girl out, remember?” I smile. I’m not usually up for talking about my family, but he’s so distracting.
    “Oh yeah, that’s right.” He grins down at me and then focuses in on another photo in the collage. “Who are they?”
    “Those are my roommates, Bridget and Camille—the ones you gave your number to, remember?” I smile.
    He pauses, thinking for a minute. “I have to be honest, I was pretty distracted that night, so I don’t quite remember their faces.” Then his eyes shift to my mouth.
    I swallow and nod, unsure of what he means, but I don’t ask. Instead, I look back at the photo and keep naming names.
    I tap the collage. He looks on, too. “That’s more of my family there.” He leans in to examine it. I shift to allow him space.
    “And this group shot—who’s this?” He points to a photo that contains everyone I’ve already mentioned except for one—Mark.
    What the hell is that doing there? “That’s Mark,” I stammer. How could I have forgotten that picture? Shit. Shit. Shit!
    He gazes at me a moment. “An old boyfriend?”
    I nod, internally smacking myself.
    He examines the photo of a dark-haired, handsome man with killer dimples who looks more like a Parelli than I do. “You two date a long time?”
    “Yeah. Too long.” Please don’t ask me more.
    Dan turns to me. “Go on,” he says, and it surprises me that he seems to genuinely want to know.
    Nonetheless, I cringe both inside and out. This is my least favorite topic in the world . . . and the last thing I want to do is discuss it, but Dan is waiting. I guess I should just rip it off like a Band-aid. I swallow. “I met him in college. We dated for about five years.”
    He raises his eyebrows at me. “Five years? Wow, that is a long time.”
    “Yeah.” Please let it stop here.
    “So, why didn’t you two marry? I mean, five years . . .”
    Shit. I take a steadying breath. “I was engaged to him.”
    His eyes widen. “You were? What happened?” His tone is gentle, but he waits for a response.
    The horrible pit in my belly opens wide, ready to swallow me. I rarely speak of this. For so long, it’s all I ever thought about, and the pain so deep that I eventually buried myself in work so I didn’t have time to consider it.
    “Um . . .”
    It’s all too easy to remember . . .
    The clear blue sky, the warm breeze, the birds chirping—it was a perfect June day, much like the night before.
    After the rehearsal dinner, as Mark and I stood on the stoop of my parents’ house saying goodnight, he’d cupped my face in his hands and planted a tender kiss on my lips. With his brilliant, dimpled smile, he’d said how thrilled he was that I would become his wife in less than twenty-four hours. I’d nearly skipped into the house, counting the hours. At that moment, my life was perfect.
    My parents had always told me that if I played by the rules, I’d win the game, and so with the beautiful sky shining down, I knew for certain I was about to win.
    Pulling up outside the church, my dad leapt out to open the limo door for me. He looked so spiffy in his tuxedo. Taking my hand and beaming at me, he helped me from the seat as gentle as a father with his newborn baby.
    I was about to marry my Prince Charming. He more than fit the bill—Italian, Catholic, smart, had a promising career, and of course, he was good-looking. My mother constantly squealed in anticipation of the beautiful grandchildren