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I roll my eyes and turn back to León, who drops the key in my hand.
“Thank you,” I tell him, and before he can respond, a redheaded goddess walks out the door.
“Fuck, this just got even better!” Cleo shouts before Chanel shushes her.
I stifle a groan of despair from coming out of my mouth. My sisters will be discussing this for days, and I’m stuck in a house with them for a whole week.
This woman is the definition of class. Her hair is a dark auburn red, matching the color of her lips and nails. Her attire is filled with flowy silk fabric accompanied by a pair of sunglasses. She’s wearing all white, the perfect contrast to the deep blood-toned red.
She looks like a doña,his doña.
Looking at her makes me realize I’m wearing lavender biker shorts and a Care Bear T-shirt. Why did I ever think in my life that I could compete with León’s future significant other?
She reaches her hand out for me to shake it.
How formal.
I take it and am greeted with a firm grip.
“Hi, I’m Vio, León’s sister’s best friend.” I smile at her before looking down at the grip. Noticing that I’m shaking her left hand, I see a big ring with a ruby in the middle.
It’s on her ring finger, with a silver band below it.
Did León propose? Please tell me she’s having an affair with him or something. Anything would be better than a proposal or even someone being his wife.
No such luck. As she takes off her glasses, I recognize her instantly. Amelie Fox, the opera singer.
“Why would he stiffen?” I ask Ale.
“I was wondering the same thing. You think he knows her?” she responds.
I remember that conversation with Ale three years ago. Then my conversation with León at the Mexican Grand Prix registers in my brain. Technically, I’ve known about their relationship for a while. Hell, I was the one who asked him if it was the redhead. But it still sends a shock through my system when I see them together.
“I know. I’ve heard so much about you,” she responds.
“Cool,” I reply.
What is wrong with you today, Vio?!?
“This is Amelie, my wife,” León says, shooting me an apologetic look.
I will always be the second choice. No one is ever going to choose me.
A chill runs down my spine, and I have no choice but to shake off the random shiver I let out. “Congratulations. I hadn’t heard about it until now,” I tell them, trying to keep my composure.
“Well, I mean, it’s perfect to hear it from the source, right?” she tells me with a smile. Amelie isn’t overly welcoming, but she isn’t mean either. I don’t see any backhanded intent with her words, just honesty.
“Have you told Ale yet?” I ask.
“Yes, it happened a while ago. She was actually at the wedding.”
I feel like I want to cry. Of course he didn’t invite me to his wedding.Asshole.
I feel like I’m going to break.
I’m not mad at León. He had every right not to invite me to his wedding if he felt uncomfortable. But Ale not telling me about it is worse.
No one wants to be around me.
