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The way she makes it sound like I’m chained to this twists my stomach.
Free.
Right. Free of Tristan. I’ve been able to put off letting him meet my parents, but they’ve become more persistent about asking. My mom told me to invite him over for Easter tomorrow since his parents aren’t in town.
“I can’t let him down now. I know how much he wants this.” I smile sadly.
Daisy reaches for my hand and gives me a reassuring smile.
“Everything is going to be okay.”
“Thanks,” I say when the waiter brings our drinks before lifting my glass. “Cheers to best friends.”
“And fake boyfriends,” she whispers and winks.
I shake my head, taking a sip of wine. I shiver at the first taste. It’s been a long time, and that first hit to my tastebuds is strong.
“Hey, what are you doing?” I look up and find Tristan standing by the booth with his arms crossed.
“Uh, hi.” My eyes cut to Daisy before returning to Tristan. “I’m hanging out with my friend.” I look at him as if he’s crazy.
“Is that wine?” He glares at the glass in my hand.
I set it on the table and nod. “Yes.”
Furrowed brows shadow his eyes as he looks at me with confusion. “You can’t drink.”
“I don’t drink. I can have a glass every so often, but I prefer not to. It’s just easier that way.“ I sigh and look at Daisy.
“Hey, Tristan.”
“Hi.” He barely acknowledges her, his eyes piercing mine.
“What in the world is wrong with you?” I cross my arms now.
“Can we talk?”
“Right now?”
“Yes, it’s important.” He drops his arms, slipping his hands into his pockets.
“Give me a sec?” I look at Daisy.
“Of course, I’ll be here looking over the menu.”
“Thanks.” I smile and slide out of the booth.
Tristan’s hand moves to my arm and guides me away from the restaurant area and into the hallway that leads to the bathroom.
“What’s going on, Sage?” There’s an edge to his tone.
“What? I can’t meet with my friends?” I shake my head in disbelief.
“Not that, the wine. You said it might cause your lupus to flare, so why are you drinking? I don’t understand.” He turns around, runs a hand through his hair, and faces me again.
“It’s okay if I drink in moderation. I can have a glass and be fine.” How do I get this through his thick skull?
“I’d rather you didn’t.” He steps closer.
