[ of course she tried to leave, because even though greer is cut closer to the ridiculously wealthy world that embry hails from rather than ash's humble upbringings, greer is also classy in a way that embry is decidedly not. the mansion feels normal to him, the over the top breakfast spread familiar, the winding halls and priceless artwork less awe-inspiring than an expected part of the decor. it makes perfect sense to put up a rembrandt over a five-year-old's ugly fingerpainting. ]

I'm glad you didn't. [ the selfish part of him says it aloud before the practiced politician can get the right words out. it's hard to find his vice president voice after doing so much blow. ] Also, I don't think you can.

[ which is another reason why he should get his shit together, get off the goddamn grass, and see if he can find ash and deliver greer to him. she looks perfect in her white dress and veil, exactly how embry's imagination painted her after the eight perfect hours he'd spent deciding he would marry her. amazing, how the universe caps his happiness at mere hours these days. he doesn't think he's been happy in years, except for fleeting moments when ash slips up and touches him behind closed doors, in closets and bathrooms and locked hotel rooms.

amazing, how goddamn pathetic he can be.

when he attempts to push himself to his feet, the world spins, and his forehead tips against greer's thigh, feeling smooth skin through the slit of her dress. he closes his eyes, heaving out a breath. ]

I'll get us out of this maze. [ even if he doesn't want to. he could stay here forever with greer, ignoring all the reasons that they can't. he could build his own fantasy here with her. ] I'll get you back where you belong. Not — not with me.