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But it wasn’t real.
And it might not be right.
I was doing it anyway because… what if it was?
* * *
“You’re marrying the girl you met on a dating app who lied to you about who she was. Have you completely lost your fucking mind?” Sean demanded as we walked down Fifth Avenue together.
I had my hands shoved in my pockets because it was cold and windy, with flurries drifting around us. We were en route to our parents’ apartment for dinner. “Nope. I have not lost my mind. I proposed to Felicia and she said yes.”
“Of course she did, because she’s psycho. She’s a stalker. She has to be. A stage-five clinger. If you try to break up with her at any point, you’re going to come home and find your apartment completely emptied out of all your possessions. Or worse, she’ll do something like take a knife to your entire collection of suits. Or shit, what if she frames you for drugs? Has morphine stashed in your shoes or something?”
I glanced at my brother. “That is very specific. Has this happened to you before?”
“The morphine? No, of course not. I’m not a doctor. But if I wanted to exact revenge on an ex-boyfriend who was a doctor, that’s totally what I would do. Pop him for drugs and get his license revoked.”
“You and Felicia both watch too much crime TV. That’s crazy. Also, I can see why you’re single.”
“Oh, great, she admitted she watches crime TV? Dude, you are so fucked. Or worse, dead. She’ll marry you, kill you, and collect the insurance money.”
“What happened to love at first sight? Does no one believe in that anymore?” I shook my head, more amused than angry.
“Not me, that’s for damn sure.”
“You’re a jaded manwhore.”
“You’re not going to get this woman pregnant, are you? That’s a lifelong commitment. You have to make sure she’s not a psycho first.”
“She’s not pregnant.” I wasn’t going to comment on if I was in the future, because I didn’t know the answer to that yet.
“Of course she’s not pregnant yet. You just met her. Or she is pregnant but you wouldn’t even know it, so you better hope that’s not the case. Be safe. I’m serious.”
“I will.” I paused in front of my parents’ building. “I’ll meet you up there in a minute.”
“What are you doing?” Sean looked at me suspiciously.
“Waiting for Felicia.”
“You invited her up to Mom and Dad’s apartment? What the hell, man? Couldn’t she just meet us at the restaurant?”
“No, we’re having happy hour first. That’s what Dad said in his extremely clipped and Dad-like text. It would be insulting to her to have her meet us at the restaurant.” I wasn’t sure if Felicia would have cared or not. But I wanted to see how she was around my parents in a more informal setting instead of at dinner where sometimes the acoustics made conversation challenging.
“Did you warn them?”
“Of course I told them.” I shook my head at my brother. “You’re the only one who is being weird about any of this. They’re totally cool with meeting Felicia.”
“Do they know you’re engaged?”
“Not yet.”
He snorted and opened the door to the building. “This should be fun.”
Felicia was actually getting out of a cab. She was wearing a thick wool coat that looked vintage to me, but I wasn’t entirely sure. It went nearly to her ankles. No boots tonight, thank God. I couldn’t be responsible for myself around those boots. Instead she had on conservative heels in black. It was a good meet-the-parents choice. Hopefully the dress was the same.
Though I wasn’t sure what I was worried about. I didn’t think my parents had much of an opinion about my dating life. I was forty-two years old, after all. They were retired, spent the winter months down in Palm Beach and had long ago given up hope of ever having grandchildren.
Felicia gave me a smile as she came over to me. “I’m very nervous,” she said. “I don’t meet the parents of a lot of men I’ve dated.”
