If she didn’t come at me, I’d worry about her mental state.
I dig my fork into my salad, spearing leaves and lobster meat with more force than necessary.
“I told you, Mom, we already have a wedding planner. A really fabulous one. She’s like my fairy godmother.” I think it’s the fifth time I’ve had to say it during lunch.
“Oh, well, fairy godmother or not, you can’t leave everything to her, no?” Mom says dismissively.
“She’s literally a professional.”
“Maybe so, but she doesn’t know you like I do, darling. I just think you should consider some feedback for your venues, at least. Water weddings are very in.”
Water weddings.
The words remind me of the recent trip on Leonidas’ yacht.
Well, technically Ethan’s yacht now, even if he’s dead set on selling it eventually.
The past and the present keep blurring into one.
And the way Ethan looked at me out there.
My heart still sputters.
So I know I’ve let my head swell up like a balloon over it.
Making it more than it was. But the way he touched me—
My face heats.
Probably not the best thing with my nosy mother sitting right across from me.
“I don’t want a water wedding. It’s trendy because it’s what every rich person in New England does,” I tell her. “And I know you think you’re helping, but Ethan was pretty clear. He’s even shut out his own sister from any extra duties beyond bridesmaid.”
“I think he could be a little more open, that’s all.”
“Heisbeing open, Mom.”
She sniffs and looks down at her spreadsheet, giving me that practiced kicked puppy look. She’s a master manipulator.
Of course, she’s assembled a detailed list of venues. Plus, menus healthy enough to fit her obsessions, vibrant flower arrangements, everything she’d love at her own wedding.
Everything she still has the nerve to throw in my face.
Apparently, mother of the bride means living vicariously through her daughter.
I’m so tired.
“Have you thought about your wedding party?” she asks, blinking intently. “And the rehearsal dinner, Hattie? The seating arrangements? Can I see your invitation list? Where is it?”
“Holy shit.Mom.” I bite back the urge to tell her she’s not on it. “Could you please just lay off a little?”
“I’m your mother and you’re my only daughter.” She pouts, brows pulling together. “Don’t you want me involved?”
No.
Honestly, I’m not even a little bit excited about bringing her into the wedding.
Even the big day itself…
