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I’m rarely stern with her, so it’s as foreign in my mouth as it is in her ears. But it does the trick as she blurts, “I’m getting married.”
My foot hits the breaks and about a dozen cars honk at me before I manage to get to the side of the road without killing myself and a dozen bystanders.
I cut the engine. “What the hell are you talking about?” I snap.
More godforsaken sniffles. “Long before I met you, I agreed to an arranged marriage.”
“So, what? You’ve been stringing me along this whole time?”
“No!” she shrieks. “That was the last thing I wanted to do.”
“Well, if it looks like a duck and it quacks like a duck… It sure does look like a fucking duck to me!” I shout.
I've never felt so out of control. If this is what comes of love then this shit is for the birds. And what the fuck is up with all the fowl references?!
“Essie, you have to believe me.”
“I don’t have to believe shit!” I snap. “You’ve been lying to me this entire time.”
“I haven’t,” she cries. “Everything that happened between us was genuine. I love you so much.”
“You sure have a funny way of showing it!”
Before she can offer another line of bullshit, I rip the Bluetooth out of my ear and toss it out the window. When my phone starts ringing, I’m about to toss that too, but I manage to keep my head enough to turn the damn thing off.
My gaze falls on the little bag containing the perfect ring for my girl who isn’t as perfect as I thought. My gut reaction is to toss that motherfucker out the window, too. Instead, I shove it into the glovebox. Out of sight, out of mind. But that shit is easier said than done.
I bang my head on the steering wheel… twice for good measure before I let loose a scream that would make a banshee proud.
I don’t feel any better. In fact, I don’t think I could feel any more miserable. But it’s enough to pull my head out so I can safely get home where I have the privacy to break down.
Chapter Thirty One
? Sakura ?
Dinner with my future in-laws is… awkward, to say the least. Conversation doesn’t flow, it’s stilted at best. Mostly, I just stare at my untouched plate and will myself not to cry. My eyes are already red rimmed and puffy from all the tears I’ve already shed since the godawful phone call I had with Estrella.
What the hell was I thinking telling her over the phone?
Why do I have to be such a little bitch?!
I squeeze my hands into fists until my knuckles bleed white and my nails dig into my palms hard enough to draw blood. But unlike the past, there’s no relief through this pain. It’s like instead of letting it all go, it only sinks deeper. Really digging its claws in until there’s nothing left but self hate and regret.
A sudden shock of pain makes my head pop up, unerringly finding my mother, who’s shooting daggers at me. “Sakura, why don’t you help me finish dessert?”
I force my mouth into some semblance of a smile that I’m sure more closely resembles a grimace. “Of course, mommy.”
As I rise to my feet, I catch a glance of my betrothed. He’s watching me, but not in interest or annoyance. No, I’m confused as he studies me with concern.
He’s quite attractive by normal standards. He’s tall, and well kept. You can tell he works out, and he has a handsome face. I’m sure most girls would swoon, feel lucky to be engaged to such a catch. But I feel absolutely nothing toward him.
I’m dawdling because I catch the tell-tale snapping of fingers from an irritated mother. I pick up my untouched plate and Lee’s. His plate is also surprisingly full.
I force my mouth open. “Was the meal not to your liking?”
He offers a sad smile. “It was delicious. I’m just not very hungry. Nervous, I suppose.”
What does he have to be nervous about?
