Fairy Tale Weddings by Debbie Macomber Page B

evident.
    â€œYou must have called for some reason, Mother.”
    â€œOh, yes,” she said and laughed nervously. “It was aboutChristmas Day. I was wondering if you minded…if I invited Sheila.”
    â€œPerhaps it would be best if you didn’t.” Although Christmas was only a week and a half away, Thorne had hoped to share this special day with Cindy. Christmas and every day before and every day after.
    The pause that followed told Thorne his objection had come too late.
    â€œI’m afraid…I happened to run into her yesterday when I was shopping…and, oh, dear, this is going to be a bit messy.”
    â€œSheila’s already been invited,” Thorne finished for his mother. He closed his eyes to the anger that rained over him, but quickly forgave her interfering ways. She hadn’t meant to cause a problem. It must’ve seemed natural to extend the invitation when he’d recently indicated he’d probably be marrying Sheila.
    â€œWill that be too uncomfortable, darling?”
    â€œDon’t worry about it, Mother. I’m sure everything will work out fine.” Cindy would understand, Thorne thought confidently. She was a generous person who revealed no tendencies toward unreasonable jealousy.
    â€œI do apologize, but your father and I both thought Sheila would be joining our family….”
    â€œI know, Mother. My change of heart was rather unpredictable.”
    The conversation with his mother ended soon, and Thorne hung up the phone, more certain than ever about his feelings for Cindy. Remembering the way she’d strolled up to him at the ball and announced that she was Cinderella brought a quivering smile to his mouth. And then she’d told him what a disappointment he was. Thorne laughed out loud. Monday morning couldn’t come soon enough.
    Â 
    Cindy woke late the next morning, feeling both exhilaration and regret.
    The evening with Thorne had been so much more than she’d dared to dream. She hadn’t been able to sleep for hours after Uncle Sal had taken her home. She’d lain in bed, reliving every part of the evening. The night had been perfect—after their awkward beginning when she’d introduced herself. Remembering the tenderness she’d seen in his gaze when he looked down at her in the carriage, she felt an aching sob in her chest.
    She’d been wrong to play the role of Cinderella. It would’ve been so much easier if she’d never met Thorne Prince. Now she was forever doomed to feel this ache within her for having so flippantly tempted fate.
    When she’d arrived home, even before she’d undressed, Cindy had sat on the end of her bed and tried to picture Thorne in her home. The image was so discordant that she’d cast the thought from her mind. If Thorne were to see this apartment and the earthy family she loved, he’d be embarrassed. Thorne Prince didn’t know what it meant to live from paycheck to paycheck or to “make do” when money was tight. He might as well be from another planet in a neighboring solar system, he was so far removed from her way of life.
    â€œCindy.” Her aunt knocked at the bedroom door. “Are you awake?”
    Cindy sat up awkwardly and leaned against her headboard. “I’m up…come on in.”
    Slowly, her aunt opened the door. Her eyes met Cindy’s. “It’s nearly noon. Are you feeling ill?”
    It was unusual for Cindy to stay in bed for any reason. “A headache.”
    Aunt Theresa sat on the edge of the bed and brushed the hair away from Cindy’s forehead. “Did you have a good time last night?” she asked.
    Cindy’s gaze dropped to the patchwork quilt that served as her bedspread. “I had a wonderful time.”
    â€œDid Cinderella meet her prince?”
    Cindy’s eyes glistened at the memory. “I spent most of the evening with him.”
    â€œWas he everything