Chapter 17: Never The Best: Chapter 17

I was done.

I probably had been for a while, but until I spent time with Pearl, I didn’t realize how far I had fallen from who I had hoped to become. I admired her. She’d overcome unfathomable pain to live her life on her terms. The irony of being inspired by Pearl to live better when I’d been so clueless as a teenager wasn’t lost on me.

I had wanted to talk to Josie privately at my place, but she insisted that we go to Elizabeth’s on 37th for dinner. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do.

I had decided to end our engagement.

I didn’t love Josie—and I’d never love someone like her. Getting married for the sake of reputation and status was making less and less sense to me. It wasn’t going to be easy. Hell no! Josie would fight this. My parents would be absolutely against it. But as Royal put it, George Vanderbilt didn’t have to marry and live with Josie; I did, and I didn’t want to. It was as simple as that, and would be complicated as fuck to navigate. In our world, we didn’t do things or not do them because of the heart’s desire. We followed a path put in front of us by society because we were, after all, society. If the elite didn’t follow the dictates, the world order would fall apart. I guess I was about to topple said order.

Bring out the gallows!

“I’ve been dying to eat here for ages,” Josie exclaimed as we sat at the bar, waiting for our table to be ready.

I appreciated a good restaurant as much as the next person, and this one was impeccable—crisp white tablecloths, candlelight flickering in crystal holders, and a polite hum of conversation spoken in low tones.

I doubted I could laugh too loudly without earning a judgmental glance—probably from someone who knew my family or me. There had already been several nods and murmured acknowledgments. Josie, of course, fit in effortlessly. Her cream-colored dress was tailored to perfection, her blonde hair swept into a chignon that had likely taken her stylist an hour to create.

She was as fake as the elegance of this place and I could almost hear my father say, “Josie Vance will make an excellent Vanderbilt bride.”

I was regretting this setting more and more as I saw one familiar face after the other. I should’ve thought this through—but honestly, I didn’t need another argument with Josie when we were about to have the mother of all fights when I told her she could keep the ring but not the man.

“Rhett, Josie! We haven’t seen you since the engagement party,” chirped Clementine Chamberlain, one of Savannah’s many professional gossips. Her husband Robert stood at her side, nodding amiably while his eyes darted toward the bar. He was a known alcoholic.

“Clementine, darlin’, you look lovely.” Josie’s smile was so polished it practically gleamed. “It’s been a whirlwind. Between wedding planning and Rhett’s busy schedule, we haven’t had a moment to breathe.”

“I can imagine.” Clementine shot me a sly smile. “You’re a lucky man, Rhett. Josie’s quite the catch.”

I nodded politely, noncommittally, before glancing at Josie, who now looked irritated. She noticed the lack of enthusiasm in my demeanor, I could tell. She always noticed when I was pulling away, and I knew that she knew that the conversation I wanted to have wasn’t about what fucking flowers I wanted for our wedding. It was probably why she insisted we eat out. Damn the woman! Did she really think she could put this off?

After a few more strained pleasantries with Clementine and Robert, we were finally taken to our table with our drinks.

Once we were seated, Josie took a sip of her wine. I could see the tension in her shoulders. The way her fingers gripped the stem of the glass tightly made me wonder if she knew what was coming.

She talked about this, that, and the other with gusto, aware that people looking at us should always see us as a happy couple, so in love with each other.

No matter what people looking into our relationship saw or thought, she knew that we weren’t in a good place. I barely talked to her. I didn’t fuck her. I all but checked out when she spoke of the wedding.

I wish I’d had the emotional wherewithal not to have proposed to her, regardless of how knocked up she was. I should’ve said we’d co-parent, that I’d be there for her, but I wouldn’t marry her. Sure, that would have pissed our families off, but it wasn’t like I could avoid it now. Actually, I’d made it worse. Breaking up after that farce of an engagement party was going to cause endless chatter.

She kept talking, but I was barely paying attention, trying to figure out how best to tell her in a fucking public setting that the engagement was over; the wedding was off. And, yeah, I’d cover any costs that came from canceling whatever the hell had already been booked a year in advance.

She set her glass down with deliberate precision. “I thought you wanted to talk, but now getting you to say anything is like pulling teeth.”

I looked down at my bourbon, the amber liquid swirling as I turned the glass in my hand.

Damn it, this wasn’t how I wanted to do it. Not here, not like this. But there was never going to be a good moment for this conversation, was there?

“I’d have preferred to do this in privacy.”

“Do what?” Her lower lip trembled.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us, Josie. I don’t believe we’re suited for one another. You’re lovely, and you’ll make⁠—”

“Shut up,” she hissed.

Christ! The dramatics had already begun.

“I’m happy to do so,” I drawled, “but it’s not going to change the facts.”

“Which are?” she demanded angrily, and then, just like that, she smiled because our server had come to the table.

Yeah, she was as genuine as a three-dollar bill at a church bake sale.

“Darlin’, why don’t you order first? I’m still making up my mind.” She even fluttered her eyelashes.

The poor server was speechless. Josie was beautiful. If only he could see what was inside.

I ordered the pepper-crusted beef tenderloin with buttermilk mashed potatoes, asparagus, and Madeira cream sauce.

I told the waiter no, I wouldn’t be ordering an appetizer. I didn’t think I could stand eating a three-course meal with Josie.

Josie wasn’t in on my dinner and dash plan, so after much dawdling, she ended up ordering the sea scallops without the lemon butter. However, she obviously wanted a side salad.

“It’s too greasy with the butter, and I need to, you know, lose some weight before the wedding.” Josie handed her menu to the server, who flushed.

“Isn’t the whole point of scallops the brown butter?” I couldn’t resist throwing at Josie.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. The server was gone; the real Josie was back.

“And you should eat the butter if you want to, Josie, because there isn’t going to be a wedding,” I added.

Her face tightened. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, her tone sharp.

“Jesus, Josie, exactly what I said. I don’t want to marry you.” Okay, so I didn’t want to say it like this, but she was shredding my patience.

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she said nothing. Then she leaned forward, her voice low and laced with disbelief. “Rhett, we’ve been engaged for six months. We’re getting married in a year. The venue has been booked. I’m getting ready to buy my dress. Now is not the time to get cold feet.”

I shook my head. This woman was unbelievable. “Josie, I don’t have cold feet. I’m ending our engagement and calling off the wedding. I’m telling you I don’t want to marry you.”

Was that fuckin’ explicit enough for her?

“Please.” She picked up her glass of wine and sipped. “Your mother warned me that you’d want to pull a rabbit.”

I almost laughed at that. Did Josie really think insulting me was going to help her case?

“Darlin’, I ain’t rabbiting on you; I’m telling you that we’re not getting married.”

I had wanted to be subtle and careful, but the hell with it. If she couldn’t treat me with respect, I wasn’t going to afford her the same courtesy. Just because I was polite didn’t mean I didn’t have an asshole streak. She, of all people, should know that.

“How do you think your father is going to feel about this?” she sneered.

“My father isn’t marrying you, Josie.”

The server returned with bread for our table, and Josie all but snarled at him, “I just told you I’m getting married, so please take that away.”

“Please forgive my companion; she hasn’t eaten much all day, so she’s hangry.” I smiled at the server. “And do leave the bread. I love your focaccia.”

The server, not sure what was up, left the breadbasket, and all but ran from our table.

I picked up a slice of warm, freshly baked roll and cut it open. I spread butter over it while Josie seethed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

“Eating carbs.” I bit into the bread with relish.

She flinched. “What’s gotten into you, Rhett?”

“I was hoping we’d have a conversation, Josie. Instead, you decided to just ignore what I was saying.” I took another bite and chewed thoughtfully. “So, are we going to talk now, or are you going to pretend I didn’t say what I just did?”

She flinched. “What’s gotten into you?”

“This is who I am,” I said bluntly, locking eyes with her. “I like getting my way, Josie, and I know you do, too. But this time, you’re not getting yours. I’m not going to marry you. I’m sorry to put it like this, but if you’ve been paying attention—and I know you have—you saw this coming.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her face was all but crumpling, and I was afraid she was going to cry. I would not hear the end of it if she did at this restaurant with at least fifty sets of familiar eyes on us.

Despite how much of a bitch she could be, what I was doing to her was a terrible thing. This would be a second engagement that was ending for Josie, and even though she’d be more devastated about how that looked rather than the fact that we’d not be together, she didn’t deserve this.

“I am sorry,” I said sincerely. “I should’ve discussed this with you much earlier. In fact, we should never have gotten engaged just because you were pregnant.”

“Is this because I lost the baby?”

I was horrified that she’d suggest that, but I understood why she went there. Losing a baby was hard. I hadn’t even been physically pregnant, and I’d felt the loss. She had been connected to our child, so I could only imagine her pain and guilt. And wasn’t that why I’d succumbed to the pressure to marry her in the first place?

“No, Josie, I would have ended it right then, if that was the case.” I took a deep breath and tamped down my anger. I didn’t want to become the Rhett who said hurtful things. I had done that way too many times, and now I knew what the consequence of that was for at least one person. “The truth is that I don’t love you.”

“What’s that got to do with us getting married?”

She couldn’t be that jaded, could she?

“You’ve told me several times that you love me. Do you?”

“Yes.”

I didn’t believe her. Josie was one of those people, I had learned, who only loved herself and didn’t know how to care for others, not genuinely. This was why she was unable to listen to what I was saying about not wanting to marry her. In her mind, she wanted to marry me, and that was that.

“I don’t love you,” I said flatly.

Before she could respond, the server returned with our food.

Josie barely touched her meal, and I felt tremendously guilty for letting my mouth run off. I should’ve been careful with her, been kinder.

“Your father isn’t going to let you back out.” Her eyes were blazing with anger.

“Like I said, my father isn’t the one getting married.”

“Does he even know what you’re saying to me right now? He finds out, and he’s going to….”

“To what, Josie?” This was why it was hard to be compassionate when it came to my soon-to-be former fiancée. She went from sad to snake in seconds. “I’m not financially dependent on him—though the Vanderbilt wealth is on me.”

She looked surprised, and I knew why. Not many knew, or rather, my father had made sure that it wasn’t common knowledge, that I managed the Vanderbilt estate and trust. I was the reason that our family was doing so well financially.

“You’re going to destroy the Vanderbilt name,” she shot back.

“Not when I’m making as much money as I am.” I decided to enjoy my meal because one thing was clear: Josie didn’t warrant my sympathy or compassion. She was actually threatening me to continue this engagement.

“After all that I’ve done, you’re going to just end us?” There were tears in her voice, but for once, I wasn’t sure if they were genuine or if she was putting them on; she was capable of doing so.

“Come on, Josie, what have you done?” I asked, exasperated.

“So, if I’d had the baby, you’d marry me?”

It was like talking to a wall, I thought. “No, Josie, then we’d co-parent, but we wouldn’t⁠—”

“Like I’d let you come near my child after you break our engagement.”

I sighed. “Josie, there is no child.” And I’m so fucking glad because you, as a mother, would ruin any kid.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this. I mean…did something happen in California?”

“What do you think would happen?” I challenged.

Her eyes went from sad to horrified to malicious. “Oh my God! This is about Pearl, isn’t it?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I demanded, now nearly entirely out of patience. “This is about us. About the fact that I don’t think I’m the man you need, and you’re not the kind of woman I want. We can’t give each other the lives we want.”

“That’s bullshit,” she snapped, her voice rising enough to earn a few curious glances from nearby tables.

“Keep your voice down,” I muttered.

She leaned in closer, her eyes blazing. “You’re scared. That’s all this is. You’re scared of settling down. But I love you, Rhett. I’ve loved you since the day we met. And I know you love me, too.”

I didn’t say anything because we were going in circles. There was no point. I would talk to her parents—I’d have to—and mine, and close this down.

Her voice trembled with desperation. “Please, Rhett. Don’t do this. Don’t throw away everything we’ve built. We’re good together. We’re perfect for each other.”

This woman was remarkably clueless, but I wasn’t any better. I had actually thought I could marry her, build a life with her, and have children with her, which would’ve been the ultimate travesty.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could feel the way you do, but I don’t. You should marry someone who loves you as much as you love them, Josie.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked them back furiously, refusing to let them fall. “I can’t believe you’re doing this at a restaurant, of all places.”

“For Christ’s sake, Josie, you insisted we come here.”

“I didn’t know you were going to do this.”

I sighed. There was no point repeating that I wanted to have a private conversation. I had told her, but she’d….

“We can fix this,” she pleaded.

I wanted to tell her that there was nothing to fix. That was the problem. This wasn’t a fight or a misunderstanding. It was a truth I’d been running from for months, and now that I’d finally spoken it, I couldn’t take it back. Hell, I didn’t want to.

“I’m sorry,” I said again. “But I can’t do this.”

“We’ll see,” she threw back at me, and pierced a butter-less scallop and chewed on it.