With an intake of breath, she looked up, and saw the blatant pain in Ren’s dark eyes. Putting a hand to her mouth, she whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s so hideously unfair. I never meant to—”
“I know.” He tried to smile. “I was stupid to let myself love you when I knew you wouldn’t love me back. But I convinced myself—” He turned away. “It was stupid.”
Hana felt grief that she’d hurt her best friend. And on the edges of that grief, she felt fear.
I was stupid to let myself love you when I knew you wouldn’t love me back.
No, she told herself. She wouldn’t let herself fall in love with Antonio. No matter how charming or wonderful her husband might be. Because no matter how much he’d changed, she knew he’d never love her back. That miracle would be a step too far.
But as she looked across the crowded room, she saw her husband sitting at the bar. He lifted his head and his dark eyes burned through her soul.
Taking a deep breath, Hana quickly turned away. “Please, Ren. Just be happy.”
“Don’t worry about me.” His eyes narrowed. “But if your husband ever does the slightest thing to cause you pain—if he hurts you or disappoints you in any way—”
“He won’t,” Hana assured him. “Will you be all right?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I never meant to—”
“Stop.” A low strangled curse came from his throat. “I’ll get over it, Hana.”
“Get over it?”
He looked at her. “Loving you.”
She’d never thought she could feel so sad, standing beside her best friend on what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. Her view was suddenly blocked by Emika Ito.
“Congratulations again,” she told Hana warmly. “Married, and expecting a baby!” She shook her head, grinning. “No one thought Mr. Delacruz would settle down. I’ve always heard you were an amazing person, Hana. Now I think you’re a rock star!”
“Oh,” said Hana, who didn’t feel remotely rock star-ish at the moment.
Emika turned to Ren. “Mr. Delacruz wants to talk to you.”
His eyes darkened. “He does?”
“Alone.”
Antonio and Ren—talking alone? Anxiety ripped through Hana. “I’ll come with you.”
“No,” he said.
“You don’t have to do it—”
“You’re wrong,” Ren said grimly. He looked toward the bar. “I can hardly wait.”
* * *
Glancing toward the doorway from where he was sitting, Antonio saw Ren Tanaka coming forward with a glower and turned back to the bartender. “Double scotch.”
As the drink was placed in front of him, Antonio took a sip, letting the harsh liquid burn him from the inside. Scotch for a wedding reception. It should have been champagne, with toasts to the bridal couple, instead of to the future profitability of CrossWorld Airways. But then, as Antonio had told Hana, they weren’t a normal couple.
No. Any normal man in his position would have insisted on a prenup, instead of stupidly offering up half his fortune.
He could trust Hana, he told himself. He could trust her. He did trust her.
Antonio pressed the glass against his forehead, to cool his hot skin.