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Why doesn’t anyone treat me like the last born in this family? I thought we got special treatment.
He always sided with his wife. How could I forget that? If there was anything I had learned about their relationship while growing up, it was that Mom had the upper hand.
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
“Remember, this family has a reputation. It will be best if you don’t ruin that,” Mom reminded me. She was probably thinking about her classy group of friends who only gathered once in a blue moon to sip expensive wine and envy each other’s designer clothes.
It was always about the family’s reputation. Every freaking mistake I made ruined the family’s reputation.
“I won’t.” I forced a smile and went back upstairs to my room.
I’d been faking smiles my whole life, hiding the pain no one ever noticed—not even my parents. I only hoped I would never fail them or give them any reason to be ashamed of meagain.
Wait until they find out about Dominiano.
Luckily for me, my boyfriend, Grey lived close by. I finished my makeup and put on my jewelry and heels. Mom called my name when Grey arrived. I hurried down the stairs with a big grin.
There he was in a slim-fit black suit that he’d matched with black Chucks, looking cool and handsome, as always. His curly hair looked perfect from here, tumbling to his forehead like bangs. His soft smile made his brown eyes sparkle with an irresistible charm as he held my gaze.
My parents stared at us as we reached out to hug like two lost lovers finding each other after years of endless searching. I tried to suppress the wide smile on my face as I moved closer to touch him, but Mom’s voice interrupted us.
“You’re running late.”
Mom believed that only married couples should show affection in public. She’d told me it was a waste of time since we were not going to end up together in the future.
We had rules in my family, like we were not allowed to date until we were eighteen. We could move out of our parents’ house to live on our own when we were done with college and had a decent job. Mom had told us she was brought up that way and it was the reason for her success and reputation as a surgeon.
I doubted that.
Dad had once told me she had a strict father who’d left a scar on her arm. It made sense why she always wore long-sleeved clothes.
I had broken the first rule. I’d started dating at fourteen. In fact, I’d dated four guys before I turned eighteen, and I was not planning on staying with my parents until I was done with college. Mom might have succeeded in talking me into attending a college only fifteen minutes from home, but graduate school would be my decision to make.
I loved my freedom, and I wasn’t getting it here. I could only access my trust fund when I turned twenty-two. Two more torturous years to go. I planned to elope once I got access to it, maybe on a continent far from home.
I hooked my arm with Grey’s and stared at my parents. Mom’s eyes fixated on us, and it was an effort not to roll my eyes at how she monitored us like a hawk, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
“Be on good behavior, Cassandra.”
I hated my middle name, and Mom only used it when she wanted to express how serious she was. I always saw Mom as a dictator. Her reputation was like oxygen to her.
“I will. Bye.”
“Bye, Mr. and Mrs. Simpson,” Grey said, smiling firmly.
“Make sure you return home with your sister!” Mom yelled after us as we stepped outside and walked to the car.
“I have goose bumps when I’m around your parents,” Grey whispered to me when we were out of earshot.
I giggled, facing him. He looked elegant and gorgeous. I ran my fingers through his soft curls and smiled at him. His mixed genes from his white father and Sudanese mother had done him good. His father was a movie producer, and his mom was a powerful attorney, but they lived in New York, and he’d moved here with his elder brother during his junior year in high school.
“You look hot. I’m so jealous,” I said, frowning.
His brown eyes glimmered under the sunlight. I traced his chiseled jawline and cheekbone with my fingertips.
“You look ravishing. Why don’t we skip the wedding?” he said, putting his arm around my waist, sliding it slowly to my hips.
He leaned closer to my face to kiss me. I slightly parted my lips to welcome his.
