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I understand that. He’s coming all the way from Alaska, on a last minute trip. And I want to believe that it’s as simple as that.
But of course, my mom and sister assume the worst.
They assume that Aiden isn’t real. To make matters worse they’ve seated Peter next to me at the dinner anyway.
I can’t believe they did that, it’s as if they assumed my “make-believe” date wouldn’t show.
Having come to the wedding is one thing, after all, he’s a family and went to college with Donovan. But having him here tonight? What if Aiden had arrived?
“Mom, this is a new low,” I tell her stiffly as I realize where she has seated me.
“Well, I can’t have my daughter sitting by herself can I?”
I will myself not to roll eyes.
“So, is your date actually going to come tomorrow?” Mom chides me. “Because it is going to mess up the headcount if he doesn’t.”
“Yes, Mom, he is.”
My sister comes over to us at the posh restaurant in downtown Seattle. “What are you guys talking about over here in the corner?” She frowns, grabbing my hand. “Come, be social. You missed the bachelorette party last week, the least you could do is try to be friendly now.”
I clench my jaw and adjust the belt on my dress. I missed the party because it was the night before my audition. Of course, she has forgotten that now and only seems to remember what I didn’t do.
“Lead the way, Anna,” I tell my sister, not wanting to argue the night before her big day.
I spend the next thirty minutes smiling at my sister’s sorority sisters.
“Where are you going to school?” a girl named Courtney asks.
“I finished last year.”
Courtney tilts her head. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-one. I finished early.”
My sister scoffs. “She actually finished high school early, took classes every summer, never took a break, and--”
“Can we not?” I say. Yes, I finished early, but going to music school was a dream. It never felt like work.
“Your dad’s a musician too, isn’t he?” Courtney asks.
“Yup.” I smile tightly, knowing my Dad retired from his music career earlier than he should have. Wishing I had been around to encourage him. Wondering why my mom hadn’t.
“And you’re playing a duet tomorrow?” she adds. “That is so sweet.”
Before I can say anymore, dinner is announced and I take my seat next to Peter. I must be frowning because the moment I slide into my chair he’s ready to pounce.
“What’s your problem, baby?” Peter asks leaning in. “Looks like you need to relax. I have a few ideas about what we could do. Maybe find an empty closet? What do you say, Alice? We’ve been tiptoeing around what is already in the cards for far too long.”
“Are you suggesting we have sex at my sister’s rehearsal dinner?” I ask flatly.
“Alice,” he purrs. “I’ve never heard you speak so bluntly.”
“Really? Probably because you never ask me anything. We’ve been set up on how many dates over the years? I don’t think you know a single thing about me besides the fact that I play the cello and have a trust fund. A real man would know what questions to ask to open me up.”
“Open you up?” His eyes darken. “I think I can do that.”
“Yeah, right,” I laugh into my wine glass.
“Meow, I’ve never seen this feisty side of you before, Alice,” Peter says. “I like what I see.”
I drop my napkin on my plate, having no appetite.
“Look, sweetheart, we’ve been playing cat and mouse long enough. Look at them,” he says, pointing to my sister and Donavan. “Don’t you want what they have?”
I frown, because yes I want what they have… at least a version of it. But not with Peter.
With Aiden.
“You know you’ve been saving yourself for me,” he says, leaning close. “Why don’t we surprise everyone and get engaged tomorrow? I can pop your sweet cherry after I put a ring on your finger.”
I’m so fed up I turn to him, hissing, “Too late, Peter. There is no more cherry to pop.”
He looks dumbfounded, but it quickly turns to anger. His face reddens, and he takes a deep breath as if trying to steady himself.
Good, I sincerely don’t want to make a scene tonight and already regret telling him that I’m not a virgin.
“Who did this to you?”
I scoff. “No one did anything to me. I chose something for myself. I wanted it.”
“Who is he?” Peter’s brows furrow, concentrating on what, I don’t know; it’s like he doesn’t know what his next move should be.
“He’ll be here tomorrow,”
“Good, because I have a few things I’d like to tell him.”
“I was never going to be yours, Peter, so drop it.”
He just laughs sharply, shaking his head. I can feel him planning his revenge. Great, just what I need.
Attempting to control my emotions, I pick up my glass of wine, knowing I’m going to need lot more Pinot Grigio to get through the night next to this guy.
