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“I love it. It’s stressful sometimes and a lot of work, but it makes me happy, for sure.”
“I’m happy for you. And how are you feeling about all of this?” she asks, waving her hand through the air.
“I mean, my parents deserve it. You don’t hear of too many people celebrating a thirtieth wedding anniversary anymore.”
“True, true.”
“And you know how Mom loves to be the center of attention,” I suggest.
“Yes, I’m aware…”
“There you are, Charlotte!” My mother rushes up to us, cutting off our conversation.
“What’s up, Mom?”
“I want you to come talk to Cheryl. She’s the wedding coordinator for the hotel that we’ve been working with.”
“Okay…but why do I need to talk to her?”
“Well, just in case you and Damien want to get married here, then you’ll already know who she is.”
My shoulders drop. “Mom, that’s not necessary.”
“Nonsense. You can never over plan.” She takes my hand and whisks me away from my aunt as I glance back at her and notice a furrow in her brow.
After listening to my mom and Cheryl drone on and on about wedding options that don’t mean anything to me right now, the hostess takes our group out to our table, where Damien takes a seat beside me, looking far more irritated than he did when we arrived.
“Hey. Are you okay?” I ask him, placing my hand on his thigh.
“Yeah. I’m fine,” he says curtly.
“Are you sure?”
He clears his throat and rests his arm around the back of my chair. “I’m fine, Charlotte.” The tight-lipped smile he gives me before rubbing my shoulder reassuringly says otherwise. I don’t have time to question him further before my father clinks his champagne glass gently with a butter knife, pulling everyone’s attention to where he stands at the head of the table.
“Before we eat tonight, I just want to thank everyone for joining us for this celebration. Savannah and I know how blessed we are to have shared thirty years of our lives together, but we are even more blessed with the people that have been by our sides through this journey. Our family and friends, and our beautiful daughter, Charlotte,” he says, tears clouding his eyes. “You all bring richness to our lives and we can’t thank you enough.” I stifle my own tears as he gathers himself. “To the weekend. May our time here together be filled with more memories that will last us the next thirty years.”
Everyone murmurs in agreement and clinks their glasses together. And just when I think it’s time to relax and eat, my mother mouths across the table to me, “You’re next.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes, and instead glance back at Damien, his jaw clenched tightly. Something must have happened in the last thirty minutes while we were apart, but apparently, he doesn’t want to talk about it. Part of me wants to press him, but the other part knows that this is neither the time nor place to do so.
I grab my champagne and take a sip, casting my gaze over our table, taking in everyone that made this trip—multiple couples that have been friends with my parents for years, my aunt and my dad’s brothers, and of course Damien and me. But when my eyes land on Damien’s father, I’m met with a glare that has me rearing back in my seat. Twisting my head to the left and then the right, I try to find something or someone else that would deserve that stare. But after realizing there’s no one in the vicinity, I settle back on him, wondering what the hell happened that would warrant that reaction from him. Before I can wonder about it further, the waiter comes by to take everyone’s order, commencing our meal and allowing me to enjoy the rest of our first night in Hawaii, despite a feeling of unease takes root deep in my gut.
* * *
“This is the perfect start to a vacation,” my mother says as all of the women invited gather around in the waiting area of the spa, wearing robes and sipping on glasses of champagne. “Getting pampered always makes me feel more relaxed for the rest of the trip.”
“I agree. And I slept on my shoulder wrong last night, so hopefully that massage therapist can loosen me back up,” Aunt Gigi replies, circling her arm and gripping her shoulder as her robe threatens to open. Gigi has a voluptuous body, but I’m not sure we all need a show like that this early in the morning. “I requested a male, so hopefully he can manhandle me a bit.”
I stifle my laugh while thinking about the last massage I got from a man who turned out to be Damien. He definitely gave me some much-needed pressure, and then ended up manhandling me in other ways later on down the road—like last night. When we got back to our room after dinner, Damien didn’t even say one word to me before he pushed me up against the door, lifted me in his arms, and fucked me against the wall, holding his hand over my mouth as I screamed through my orgasm. And then we passed out in bed after a long day of traveling.
It felt so normal, so easy, like we should be doing this all the time.
And the more normal relationship things we do, the more I want that. But something definitely happened with him last night, and my gut is telling me not to let it go.
“Cal doesn’t like for other men to touch me, so I have a female massage therapist,” my mother interjects, which surprises me.
“Really? Dad has a problem with that?”
“Yes. I learned the hard way, long ago, that your father has boundaries when it comes to our marriage, and that is one that I respect. I’m sure Damien would feel the same way if another man was touching you while you had no clothes on.”
Would he?“I’m not sure.”
“Trust me. It’s a caveman instinct. They don’t want any other man touching or seeing their woman that exposed.” A bunch of the other women nod in agreement. “Speaking of exposed, I’m doing something for Cal that I’ve never done before today.”
“What it is?” Cheryl, one of my mom’s friends asks.
“I’m getting waxed,” my mother whispers as a bunch of the women chuckle and some wince.
“What?” I ask as my stomach plummets with this information.
My mother turns to me with a smile on her face. “What? I’ve never done it and thought it would be fun for our anniversary…you know, spice things up. I’ve never been completely bald down there, but I heard it’s quite pleasurable.”
My eardrums are bursting into flames as I take in this information. “Mom, I beg of you, please stop talking.”
She laughs. “Charlotte, you’re old enough to realize that your parents have sex, hun.”
“Oh, I’m not naïve. I just don’t want to hear about it.”
Damien’s mom, Brenda, speaks up at this moment. “Well, I’ve always been bald down there. Got it lasered off years ago when the bush was no longer popular. And Derek loves it.”
“I’m gonna throw up,” I say dramatically as my Aunt Gigi laughs at me. “This is information I do not need to know.”
“Well, don’t you have a wax appointment today?” my mother asks.
“Yes, but that’s none of your business.” I tighten my robe around my body, suddenly feeling glaringly naked underneath and traumatized by this conversation.
“Doing those things for your man keeps things exciting, Charlotte,” my mother declares. “I’m sure Damien will appreciate it, and you don’t want to go ruining the first real relationship you’ve had in years. You’re finally close to being a married woman, so don’t jeopardize it. Sometimes a little pain is necessary to keep your man happy.”
I bite my lip to keep myself from responding in the way I truly want to, which is much harder than it sounds.
Aunt Gigi comes up beside me, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. “Come on, Savannah…don’t scar your daughter for life.”
“I’m not. It’s just a little bit of girl talk,” she jokes as everyone shares a laugh and I contemplate faking a marriage as well to get her off my back.
Aunt Gigi squeezes my arm just as an army of spa employees comes in to take each member of our party to their respective rooms for pampering. But Gigi keeps me back and tells our girls that we need a minute. Pulling me to the side, out of earshot, she soothingly rubs my arm. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because of what your mom just said to you.”
“Oh, you mean how I’ll never get married if I don’t tend to my pubic hair?” I tease. “Don’t worry, Aunt Gigi, I’m used to those types of comments by now.”
“You shouldn’t be used to them, Charlotte.”
