Dinner is almost over. Mrs. Russo has been so kind to me, I’m almost scared. I’m not used to people actually being interested in me, at all, in any way, and I don’t know how to talk to her, soI just plaster a smile on my face and nod at the appropriate times.
Sebastian is fast becoming someone I'd call a friend. I hope we can keep in touch after tonight. We will be family, but I preferred to be his friend, not just a soon-to-be sister-in-law. I hope I could be someone he might call to meet for coffee or to visit an art gallery. I'd like to show him the Fresco I'm working on.
Mrs. Russo suddenly stands up and says, "We have coffee and dessert ready in the sitting room if everyone would like to follow me."
Mr. Russo stands immediately and walks over to her, pulling out her chair. He places her hand on his arm and leads the way. My father follows his example. Christopher stands, helps Rebekah out of her seat, and makes his way to the door. I watch in horror, knowing we are a set of three. I can feel my face getting redder and redder and it feels like it’s on fire.
Sebastian is staring at Alexander. Alexander's heated glare is staring back at us. Rather than watching the male egos play with my feelings, I refuse to look up. Sebastian doesn’t seem the type to do it on purpose, but Alexander is like a dog with a bone. He’s not letting this go. The tension is rising between all of us, the room so quiet you can hear a pin drop.
Slowly, Alexander stands up and excuses himself, saying, "If you'll both excuse me, I’ll meet you both there."
Sebastian stands up, and I watch Alexander’s wide shoulders leave the room.
“Here, let me get your chair.” Sebastian reaches for my chair and begins to pull it out for me. Sliding slowly backwards with shaky legs, my mind races with every outcome of why Alexander would leave so Sebastian can escort me to the sitting room.
I'm not sure if this is a trick by Alexander to back me into a corner. Waiting to catch me alone and make me pay for ignoring him all night only to leave me to be escorted out by Sebastian, or if he's being diplomatic. I've spent years watching men playgames with me, and it's become second nature to me that everything nice is a trap.
He surrendered to Sebastian too fast. The possibility of Alexander being kind is not something I can imagine happens very often.
Sebastian grabs my elbow, oblivious to Alexander's game and guides me around the table as we head toward the door.
“Just stick by me tonight. Okay, Luna, just stay close to me. I’ll make sure that nothing else happens. I think you’ve had enough for one night.”
I just nod my head and agree. What else can I say? I really don’t want to be alone with Alexander. I’m not ready for another chokehold or a threat or another mark left on my body to remind me that I’m nothing but a toy.
We reach the sitting room and everybody’s already gathered into his or her little groups. Christopher and Rebekha are over by the fireplace. My parents are speaking to Sebastian‘s parents. For some reason, I can’t stop myself from looking for Alex.
I catch his large frame out of the corner of my eye. He stands in the corner by the French doors closest to the piano. He’s part of the room, but not.
Like a dark shadow watching us all. He’s got a drink in one hand, and he’s leaning against the wall with his feet crossed at the ankles, slowly sipping his drink as he looks at me over the rim of his glass.
I refuse to give him eye contact. Like a wild animal, you don’t look them in the eye. I know where he is in the room, and I’ll make sure that I stay on the opposite end of it until I absolutely have to be anywhere near him.
Sebastian guides me over to a chair and asks me if I want to drink. I don’t drink alcohol, but I don’t have the courage to tell him that. What family organization wife doesn’t have a glass ofchampagne at functions? Not many. I quickly came up with a plan.
"Sparkling water with lemon if you have it. My stomach’s not exactly settled from this evening’s crazy event." I smile, hoping he buys it.
"I’m on it. Just a second, Luna." Sebastian quickly steps away, heading towards the bar. Just then, Mrs. Russo looks at me and smiles.
"Well, dear, your mother and I have been discussing the upcoming nuptials. Did you have any ideas or plans? Is there anything in particular that you wanted at your wedding?"
Oh my God. These women work fast.
I stop myself from looking over in the corner where Alexander studies me. He choked me twice this evening and I’m supposed to figure out what it is that I want at my wedding.
I’ve known him for less than three hours and the only thing keeping me from running is I fear my father more. I don’t want to marry a man just like him. I want to marry someone nice and cultured, like Sebastian. That’s what I really want, and I can’t have that.
I clear my throat. "I haven’t really thought about it. This is all quite sudden, so I haven’t really wrapped my brain around any particular thing I’d need.”
I look at my mother; “Mother? You might be more of an expert on this than me." She nods, taking over the conversation, dismissing me, as Sebastian hands me my drink and stands behind my chair.
The two women put their heads together and just started chatting. They discuss flowers and cakes. Who should actually cater it? The photographer has to be the best. And the dress has to be from a top designer. I can’t even wrap my brain around everything that’s going into this event. It’s like they are on speedwedding planning and I’m on slow-mo.
All the while, Alexander still hasn’t moved from his stance by the wall. He has not interjected his ideas or wishes for this wedding either. By the looks of both of us and the lack of interest we both seem to have, I think this wedding is more for them than it is for us. Mr. Russo leans over, gently kissing his wife on the top of her head as he looks at me.
"How soon should we hold the nuptials? Is there anything pressing on your calendar that we should be aware of?" My eyes blink from one person to another into four sets of eyes waiting in silence for my response.
All can hear Alexander's deep voice as he states, "Two weeks."
