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“It’s like someone died,” Topper complains, grabbing a chair and sitting down. He reaches for the menu.
“We’re talking about Evangeline’s sad life,” Moreen says.
“That explains why it looks like something crawled out of your butts and died.”
“I love the visual, Tops,” I mumble, and my eyes flicker to Moreen’s phone, which lights up with an incoming call. The name Sebastian reads on her screen, and with her clean manicured nail, she declines the call, a loud sigh leaving her.
“After Evangeline marries that douchebag, you two can start a club. The ‘I hate my freaking husband’ club. I assume you’ll have a long waiting list of people who want to join,” Topper says.
“I could start a ‘I hate Sebastian Callahan’ club that will have a lot of members as well,” Moreen mutters with her hoarse voice even lower, and her eyes go back to her phone when another call from Sebastian comes through.
The question is on the tip of my tongue, but before I can ask it, the waitress approaches our table to get Topper’s order as well. I want to help Moreen, but I don’t know how because she doesn’t tell us anything about her marriage or the struggles she’s going through. Her and her husband’s secrets are inside a vault, and only they have the key.
“So, when are we going to shop for a wedding dress?”
“In a week.” The appointment has been made by my future mother-in-law. A friend of hers has a bridal boutique and offered to help us out. How gracious of her, but I don’t find any excitement in trying on wedding dresses for a fake marriage.
“When is the wedding again?” Moreen asks.
“In four weeks,” Topper responds, then winces. I want it to blip away. I want to move forward in time and just skip it altogether.
“Okay. That’ll give us enough time to find the perfect dress.” Moreen nods her head confidently. But Topper shrugs his shoulders before leaning back in his chair and starts to fold his napkin.
“As much as I love shopping for one of those expensive white dresses, it sucks that you’ll have to wear it on the day you’re going to marry Thomas Meyer. Couldn’t Frederic have picked someone else? Someone decent?”
Oh, shit.
My thoughts race through my mind. I can’t stop it from going into overdrive, and soon, I’m completely overwhelmed as the solution to my problem peeks from behind the clouds.
“Oh, God.” The realisation takes over my mind, and I dare not think of something else. It’s obvious. Almost simple, but it sounds absolutely ridiculous and very much impossible.
“Evangeline?” Topper asks, but I’m too occupied with combing through the thing that always has been right in front of me.
A solution.
“I have to go.” I stand up quickly. I grab my coat from my chair before opening my purse and leaving some bills on the table. With my mind and heart going a million miles an hour, I leave the little café and march through the street.
I’m not letting go of Chester or my life and dreams.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Evangeline
Asurge of confidence warms me. I’m on an adrenaline high, and it pushes me forward to my destination. I grow restless the longer the taxi driver takes to drop me off. I ignore the nerves fluttering in my stomach. I’m fighting them tooth and nail, or else they’ll stop me in my tracks.
The large building comes into view, and I breathe in deeply. My muscles grow taut yet strong as they are ready for battle. There’s not one part of me that believes I’ll fail. The plan, though quite simple, sounds foolproof. Frederic will not be able to ignore the even better solution to our problem.
He’ll have to see how beneficial it’ll be for him. Even though I don’t let money dictate my life, it’s Frederic's fuel and the only thing he seems to care about right now. And even if my brother finally comes to his senses, it doesn’t mean the other person will. There are, after all, two people involved.
But first, I must convince the big bad wolf that there is another path to take, one that will give me happiness and love instead of heartbreak and misery.
The taxi driver stops in front of the old but renovated building. It used to be a large publishing house until it went out of business, and later, it was purchased by Frederic’s employer and turned into an accounting firm. Now, my brother holds the strings tightly and dictates my life.
I pay the driver, and I escape the car quickly. My heart pounds in my chest, and my mouth grows dry. I stare up at the brick building, and for the first time, doubt settles deep inside of me.
Will it work? Can it work? I’m asking a lot and my brother is not a fan of making changes so close to a deal being done. Frederic is unpredictable at times. Sometimes, he listens or pretends to, but his mind is difficult to understand. As much as I believe he will agree to it, he can still throw me for a loop and decide otherwise.
But money speaks loudly in Frederic’s life, and even though it’s a low blow for me to even dare to use it as an argument, I see no other way, and I’m not ready to sell my soul to a man who gives me the creeps.
