The Moon Beyond His Reach

"You spent three whole years planning this. Are you sure you want to cancel the wedding?"

The coordinator asked me again, full of regret.

She knew how much of myself I had poured into this wedding. Every detail, from the flowers to the table settings, had been chosen and designed by me piece by piece.

My eyes burned. Before I could answer, Graham Whitmore's name flashed across the screen of my phone.

"I'm almost done with my business trip. I picked up that limited-edition crocodile handbag you've been obsessed with," he enthused. "There was an incredible sapphire at an auction. It's exactly your color. I thought we could have it set into your wedding ring.

"Please don't be mad. Something came up with the overseas branch, and I honestly couldn't get away. Just give me one more day. I swear I'll give you the biggest, most unforgettable wedding.

"Babe, I miss you like crazy. The second I get back, we'll go get our marriage license."

...

Promises came so easily to him.

Every word sounded sincere, every apology perfectly timed. Even through the phone, I could feel how much he seemed to care.

Ever since we had set the wedding date, the playboy had suddenly turned over a new leaf. He stopped running around every night and started staying home to cook for me.

He picked me up from work and drove me home every day. Now and then, he found another excuse to take me somewhere public, making sure the media and everyone in the city saw us together.

He announced to the whole world that Luna Calhoun was the woman he had chosen to marry. This version of him was everything I had spent eight years dreaming about.

And yet, no one could have imagined that one pregnancy test would send him racing through the night, crossing hundreds of miles just to see the mistress he had been keeping for six years.

They had kissed beneath a tree, oblivious to the world around them.

The look on his face was the relief and the joy of a man who had finally gotten back something he thought he had lost. It shattered the last illusion I had been clinging to.

Maybe I had only ever been the woman he thought was suitable for marriage. Maybe I had never been the woman who truly had his heart.

And I never would be.

...

Graham was still talking on the other end of the line, enthusiastically going over all the plans he had made for us, but I simply hung up.

Turning to the wedding coordinator, I nodded. "Let all the guests know. The wedding is off."

The invitations had been long sent, and canceling the wedding at the last minute naturally required an explanation.

I was still trying to figure out how to handle the fallout when Graham suddenly came home. He appeared in the foyer, looking as though he had just stepped off a red-eye flight.

Exhaustion was written all over his face, but a smile appeared the moment he saw me. Before I could react, he crossed the room, scooped me off the couch, and pulled me into his arms.

"Have you lost weight?" he asked with concern.

His warm breath brushed against my ear, sending a shiver through me.

"I told you to let other people handle this stuff, but you insisted on doing everything yourself." His voice softened with reproach. "Do you have any idea how much it kills me to see you run yourself into the ground? Babe, I missed you so much..."

The intimate name made my stomach turn. He had looked me in the eye and promised that he was done with every other woman.

Yet he had used a business trip as an excuse to meet one behind my back. That pregnancy test had merely allowed them to find their way back to each other.

The truth was that I had never been the most important person in his life.