The Weight Of Leaving by Riven Kade novel Chapter 1

Chapter 1

At the ninth wedding we’d planned, I refused to let my fiancé’s girl–bro take the seat of honor at the head

table, so he left me there and gave me the silent treatment.

He told me, “If you don’t want to get married, then we’ll postpone it indefinitely. When you finally admit you were wrong, you can let me know when you’re ready to have a wedding.”

In his eyes, the wedding mattered less than his precious “girl–bro,” and all nine times, he called it off because

of Lexi Hart.

Sure, I’d been stupid, but nine times was already pushing it, and a tenth would make me pathetic.

One of his bros said, “Renee, you’re being immature. It’s just the seat of honor. We’re all bros–who cares

where we sit?”

A seat was a seat, yeah, but not when it was Lexi.

I looked at the whole crew with a cold smile; every one of them was top–tier in their field, smiling wide.

“Since you guys are so devoted to your bro,” I said, smiling wider, “it’s not too much to ask for one of you to make it up to me and be my husband, right?”

The next time I got a message from Carter Quinn was a full year later, and I was busy in bed with his bro,

Landon Hale.

***

“Focus,” Landon said.

But the phone kept buzzing like whoever was calling had decided they weren’t stopping until I picked up, and I didn’t get a chance to grab my phone until the man on top of me was finished.

Unknown: [Didn’t I tell you to pick me up early? Where are you?]

I glanced at the unfamiliar avatar, didn’t think much of it, and tossed my phone aside.

Not long after, it started ringing again.

“Renee, why aren’t you answering my calls or replying?” The voice was annoyingly familiar.

I frowned. “Who is this?”

“Don’t tell me you’re playing hard to get now,” he said. “Get in the car and come to the airport to pick up me and Lexi. Bring something roomy–Lexi brought gifts for you.”

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Oh, right–it clicked that this was my ex–fiancé, the one who’d given me a year of silence over his girl–bro.

So that message yesterday had been from him, and I’d treated it like spam.

“I’m busy,” I said, and hung up without a second thought.

Carter clearly wasn’t used to being treated like that; his voice turned stormy, and he called again

immediately.

“Renee, I’ll say this one more time,” he snapped. “You’re coming to get me, or deal with the consequences.”

“I’ll say this one more time,” I shot back. “I’m. Busy,”

“What could you possibly be busy with?” he sneered. “You’re a woman who only knows how to live off me

and the Quinn family. You’ve got twenty minutes.”

The drive to the airport was forty minutes on a good day, and he was giving me twenty like he wanted me

dead.

“If you can’t hear, go get your hearing checked,” I said. “I don’t have time to entertain you.”

“What else could you be doing?”

The contempt in his voice made it sound like my life didn’t exist outside of him, and I glanced at the man who’d just walked out of the bathroom and took the opportunity to get a little handsy.

“I’m in bed with your bro,” I said.

Then Lexi’s voice slid into the line, soft and sweet. “Renee, don’t say that just to make Carter mad. If he gets angry, you’ll be the one crying later. I know you’re blaming me.”

The pick–me energy was so strong I could practically smell it through the phone, and I genuinely didn’t understand how Carter could stand it.

A year ago, at my wedding with Carter, Lexi insisted on sitting at the head table and humiliating my parents, and when I snapped at her just once, Carter warned me like I was the problem.

He told me, “When you admit you’re wrong and apologize to Lexi, then you can tell me when we’re getting married. Until then, there’s no point.”

He walked out with Lexi, leaving me alone to face the crowd, while his bros all tried to smooth it over and told me not to take it personally–because “between bros, you don’t talk like that.”

And since every one of those bros was the best of the best, with family money that even Carter couldn’t compete with, I walked straight up to his closest bro and took him into the bridal suite.

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“Since he ran,” I said, “as his best bro, it’s only fair you make it up to me and be my groom, right?”

From Carter’s tone, you’d think none of his bros had told him that one of them had already paid his “war

reparations” for him–by climbing into my bed.

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