Loving Reflection

By Nancy Chastain

No one cares what she wants, 
except for the boss's son. 

 

Colt Young wasn't supposed to show up on MJ's doorstep—and he sure as hell wasn't supposed to give her an escape—but when he called her out on covering for Baxter, the worthless man she was engaged to, he didn't just give MJ cold feet... he gave her red stiletto wings. 

 

Convinced marriage was an epic mistake, the runaway bride flew out of the church, caught a ride with the boss's son, and took a private jet to Tokyo.

 

It just required an endless kind of love.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nancy Chastain
• Release date: Jan 9, 2024
• ISBN: 9798223123880

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

MJ

Standing in front of my mirror, I note the subtle changes in my face. My eyes, once blue and sparkling with excitement at what life had to offer, are now dull and sunken, my skin less vibrant. My cheeks lack the rosy glow of a woman ready for forever.

Because I’m not.

The diamond on my hand says otherwise.

My conscience yells at me, trying to get my attention and talk me out of moving forward. It thinks I'm headed in the wrong direction.

Maybe it’s right. I run my finger along the scar on my cheek, always there as a reminder, and toss the dry towel over the mirror. I slip into the pair of beige slacks that I once would never be caught dead in. Wearing clothes that someone my mother’s age would wear was not something I was used to, until Baxter.

According to him, placing a ring on my finger gives him a say on how I present myself. My looks are a reflection of his reputation as well as my own. If I disagree with what he suggests or demands, Baxter seems readily available to point out and correct my behavior as if I’m a child who needs to be scolded.

That can’t be love. Sitting on the hardwood floor with my back against the bed and my legs stretched out in front of me, I rub the soft fur against the scar. The teddy bear Baxter had given me when we first began to date against my chest.

But it was an accident, the little voice in my head whispers. All he wants is to love and be loved.

There’s truth to it. Baxter saw me as wife material; he told me that is why he was drawn to ask me out. He knew we would be forever before I even agreed to go out on our first date. Romantic?

More like a blatant red flag. Almost as bright as the scarlet notebook in my hand, which feels like a heavy metal stop sign, warning me to hit the brakes before I crash.

Each page is full of stories, written in minute-by-minute detail. All I have to do is open it, read my own thoughts, and remember the events as they play out in my own words, which I’ve been too afraid to utter to anyone including my best friend.

I can’t talk to anyone about my doubts. To question Baxter is unthinkable. That is why I write—or I used to—in my Doubt Journal. Most girls keep diaries of their hopes and dreams. Not me… Even the younger me knew one day, I’d need to listen to, or someone would need to know the truth in the stories that broke me.

I open my Doubt Journal and flip through the pages.

September, 1 year ago.

The boy I had known most of my life, the only one I ever called mine, destroyed me. Not instantly, but slowly, so no one would notice.

Baxter took his time, chiseling my identity away with the sharp edges of his tongue... In the beginning, he loved my adventurous spirit and my drive to succeed; then, he slowly carved out my identity to mold me into his perfect woman. A reflection of an imaginary submissive woman that he had created.

August (7 years ago).

Baxter’s family joined my family for a going away dinner before we leave tomorrow. Everything was going fine until his mother asked me, What are you most excited to do at college, Mary Jane?

My thoughts began to race with the possibilities. ‘Everything’ would be the easy answer. Learning, of course, having some privacy without my parents wanting to know all the details. Meeting new people, and experiencing new things. I glanced at Baxter, hoping he would loosen up away from his parents.

Baxter furrowed his brow. Mary Jane, cat got your tongue?

I looked at Baxter and smiled. That almost sounded sexy. Joining a sorority and making lifelong friends. Are the two biggest things, I replied.

Baxter wasted no time in giving his opinion, first with a scoff and then a groan as I whirled around to face him.

I placed my fork down on my plate. Did I say something wrong? I began fidgeting with my napkin on my lap.

Why exactly do you think your parents are letting you go away to college? They want you to use your head and learn, not waste their hard-earned money partying.

I’m not going to spend four years partying, Baxter. How can you think that? I don’t party now, why would you say that?

Now, Mary Jane, you know very well you were trying to pressure me into going to the after-prom party. Baxter took a bite of his appetizer. Are you going to deny it?

I glanced up at Mom and Dad, who shared a worried look.

The after party was for us to spend time with our friends. That’s it. I’m not a partier, I never have been.

Because I won’t let you.

Excuse me? I stared at him. What the hell was he talking about? He made it sound like I was some out-of-control teenager that he had to handle. "Baxter, I’m not sure what you are talking about but I want to experience everything college has to offer while I’m there."

Baxter wiped his mouth with his napkin. Mary Jane, he said coldly and in a much lower tone of voice than before, as his hand gripped the seat of my chair and pulled it closer to him. We’re going to college to put my plan for our future into motion. I thought you were on board with our plan, he sneered. Have you changed your mind about our future? Baxter growled at me.

Stop it, I cut him off, trying to salvage the night before it took a turn for the worse. You know, I’ve always wanted the same for us. Sororities and Fraternities are another way to aid us in becoming successful. I don’t understand why we wouldn’t use every resource available to us.

He clucked his tongue and shook his head. You’re not joining one, and that’s final.

What did you just say? I looked around the table. I tightened my grasp on my fork, choking the hell out of it. Are you growling? I’m just asking a question, Baxter. I don't understand the problem with joining a sorority or you joining a fraternity. I want us to be successful. With those connections that can happen, and they can aid us in the future.

I said no. He grabbed my thigh under the table and squeezed it, causing me to wince in pain. We both know the real reason you want to join, Mary Jane. I won’t have my future jeopardized by you wanting to explore your sexuality!

Mom and Dad gasped so loud, that Baxter’s parents dropped their utensils against the fine china. It was enough to pry my eyes off the jerk beside me, because the image of stabbing Baxter in the thigh with the metal prongs was a little too at the forefront of my mind.

I lowered the fork... just in case. Stabbing him and watching him writhe in pain had made it up into my brain far too many times in those last ten minutes.

His voice softened. Mary Jane, I think the emotions of leaving home for the first time are getting the best of you. We can discuss this further if the issue comes up when we’re at college.

My eyes moved from my plate to Baxter’s condescending face and my jaw ticked. I’m not afraid to leave, Baxter!

I was afraid he was coming with me.

He dug his thumb into my inner thigh; the tone of his voice lowered to a soft hum. Darling, no need to get upset and ruin the wonderful dinner our parents have made for us.

I exhaled in increments and focused on the four sets of frowning lips and furrowed brows. This clearly wasn’t the time for this discussion. "You