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“Yes, yes. Snobby and rude and Clifford being a perv.” I sigh. “I really thought he’d message me.”
Without Christian, I have nothing. No plan, no fiancé—technically I’m back to where I was yesterday when I first found out about Christian’s wedding crisis, but somehow it feels so much worse. Like I’ve legitimately lost something. Which is ridiculous when I didn’t want anything to begin with.
Elle drops her voice. “What are you going to do?”
“Honestly haven’t a clue.” I force a smile. “But I’ll figure it out. And if not, I’m sure I can find someonesomewherewho wants to marry me. Eventually.”
Elle frowns, wrinkling up her nose. “You sound so defeatist. Stop that.”
“Only trying to prepare myself.”
“Well, prepare yourself during dinner. We’re already late.”
I watch her get up and cross to the door. “Please tell me you weren’t sent here to get me?”
“Okay, I won’t.”
“You’ve been here for half an hour.”
“It’s not going to kill them to wait.”
She leaves, and I get up with a groan and pull on a shirt. Like I expected, by the time I make it down the street to my parents’ apartment, they don’t look happy. Well, they never look happy, but they don’t look … emotionless, either. Both of them are brimming with disappointment.
I can’twaitfor this dinner.
“Good evening, family,” I say, trying to act like I’m not suffocating under their cold looks.
“Émile. Dinner is at eight. Where have you been?”
“We got distracted talking, I’m afraid.” And I might as well get their next question out of the way. “Elle asked where I disappeared to yesterday, and I explained I didn’t feel well and had to leave early.”
Neither of their expressions shift. No sympathy, no concern.
Dad lets a heavy exhale out through his nose. “That doesn’t explain why you arrived home at lunchtime today.”
Of course they’d know that. My lips quirk. “Why, father, are you spying on me?”
“That is not how a man behaves. We were celebrating your grandfather’s memory and you left to go and meet up with who knowswhatkind of people.”
“The queers.” I nod. “It was the queers this time. I went to the land of my people and basked in the glow of glorious penises—”
Elle makes an intense choking noise as Mom gasps.
“Émile.” At least she’s interested now. “This isn’t the time for your humor.”
“I don’t think that was humor,” Elle mutters and ducks when Dad shoots herthe look.
“Besides,” I say, thinking on the fly. My brain rapidly coming up with some bullshit before they can followthatconversation.“I’ve decided I’ll stick around for a while. I want to hold a charity event in Pa’s memory. To benefit Alzheimer’s. I think he’d much prefer that over a pointless memorial.” I’m talking out of my ass, but the more words I say, the more it makes sense. If I’m busy with that, they won’t try to rope me into the business while I’m here, and while I haven’t a clue what I’m going to actually do with the money once I get it, having charity contacts won’t be a bad thing.
My parents don’t acknowledge any of it anyway.
“Well, I’m sorry you missed it,” Dad snaps, “because all anyone could talk about was your cousin’s engagement. Do you want to see Clifford as the favorite to take over C.W. Shipping?”
“I’d prefer never to see him at all, if I’m honest.”
“This isn’t a joke.”
“Really? Because him getting married seems like a joke to me.”
