“Why don’t we discuss thislater?”I say pointedly.
He releases our hands and goes back to eating like he didn’t just drop a bombshell on me, but my appetite has dried up completely.
“Okay, babe,” he says easily. “I have all the paperwork in my office. We can look it over after dinner.”
Two hours later, my rage hasn’t subsided a bit. Rose left, after insisting on cleaning up the kitchen, and Roger walks out of his office and places a folder on the glass coffee table.
“Here’s the updated honeymoon info. I made sure to book Mom’s cabana away from ours so we could have our privacy.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
Is he fucking kidding me right now?
Standing from the couch, I fist my hands on my hips. “Roger, you should have talked to me about this. You booked your mother to go with us on our honeymoon without even having a discussion with me?”
He looks taken aback. “I’m sorry, babe. I wanted to check with the travel agent to see if we could change the dates before I brought it up to you. When she told me it was a no-go, I had the idea to just bring Mom along.” His shoulders lift in a nonchalant shrug.
I wonder if my face shows even a hint of the disbelief I’m feeling right now. “It’s. Our. Honeymoon,” I grit out, and he takes me in his arms, swaying us back and forth.
“I know, sweet girl. It’s not like she’ll be sharing a room with us or anything. It will be fine.”
Burying my face in his chest, I inhale the clean, woody scent of his cologne. “But it’s supposed to be time just for us. We haven’t had much of that lately. You’re always so tired when you get home since you spend hours at your mother’s after work.”
Roger stiffens and takes a step back, releasing me from the comfortof his embrace. “You think Iwantedmy mom to be widowed? You think this is fun for me?”
Instantly feeling guilty, I reach out and stroke his arm. “No, Roger. I know it’s not, but I was really looking forward to having you all to myself.”
“Well, circumstances change. I’m doing the best I can here.” He rubs his temples with his fingertips, a sign that he’s feeling stressed out.
I’m really trying not to be a bitch, but he’s making me feel like one. “If you’re worried about Rose being alone, why can’t she stay with your brother for a week?”
He shakes his head. “No can do. Aiden and Amy are leaving the day after our wedding for a second honeymoon, remember? Their five year anniversary is next week.”
My temper flares again, and I throw my hands up in the air. “So they get asecondhoneymoon all alone, and I don’t even getone?”
“Everything’s not about you, Mindy!” he yells.
“Since I’m the one marrying you, I thought at leastsomethingwould be about me,” I yell back.
“Oh, here we fucking go.” He turns on his heel and paces away before whirling back on me. “I never thought you would be a bridezilla.” If he‘d slapped me across the face, it wouldn’t have stung more.
“I can’t believe you just said that to me.” I’ve done my best to be the opposite of a bridezilla, believing that the marriage is more important than the actual wedding. Even if the wedding wasn’t exactly perfect, I would still be married to my man.
Your mom thinks the deep red roses are too harsh? That’s okay. The lighter ones will be fine.
The almond cake isn’t my favorite, but Roger loves it, so let’s go with that.
No, these shoes will be great. They’re a hundred dollars cheaper than the ones covered with tiny rhinestones that I love so much.
“Well, that’s how you’re acting. You don’t get your way on one little thing, and you start yelling at me.” Roger narrows his eyes. “I thought you would be a little more understanding since my mom has basically been a mother figure for you after your mom died. She’s been nothing but kind and helpful to you, and you want to treat her like shit.”
Guilt trip: Party of one.
Dropping my head, I watch as tears splatter on the rug, leaving tiny stains on the light blue fabric. He’s right. Rose has been amazing to me. She brings me little gifts when I’m feeling down, and for every holiday, she makes a pretty little arrangement for me to put on Mama’s grave. I really do adore the woman.
“That’s n-not what I was trying to do. You know I love Rose?—”
“Shit, honey, don’t cry,” he says, walking swiftly to me and wrapping me in his arms. “I’m sorry, Min. I know this isn’t ideal, but it will be fine.” He lifts my chin and kisses me softly. “You’re going to be my wife, and we’re going to have an amazing time in Aruba. Mom can fend for herself while I bury myself inside my wife and show you how much I love you.”
She’s a grown woman in her forties. Why can’t she fend for herself here?I wonder and immediately feel unkind.
