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I snort. “As if you could trust such a promise. He’d promised he’d keep out of my business.”
“He made a mistake. We all do.”
“That’s my prom dress,” I protest, already half-choked by emotions seeing the dress I spent months searching for with my mom and never got to wear. “That’s not playing fair. You know what he has planned?”
“Yeah, he’s taking you to your senior prom, and you’d better get into the dress if you don’t want to be late.”
53
BLAKE
When the doorbell rings, I’m ready for murder. Marissa, Gabriel, I don’t know who I should off first, maybe even my parents for lending their house to this farce—even if, to be fair, I didn’t exactly tell them about the breakup, so they might be innocent bystanders in all this.
Marissa ushers me out of the bedroom and leans on the threshold like a mother hen sending her chicks out to rooster alone for the first time.
“You’re not coming?”
“No.” She shudders. “I still bear scars from my last prom, which sixteen years of therapy haven’t cured. I don’t care much for the high-school scene.”
“Yeah, me neither. Are you sure you don’t want to switch your IOU to unicorn PJs, ice cream, and a Gilmore Girls marathon?”
“I’m sure. Now go, be brave, and give the man a chance. He messed up, he knows. But I still think he’s one of the good ones.”
“You know nothing, Marissa Mayer.”
With one last glare, I walk down the stairs, stumbling over the last few steps as I catch a glance of Gabriel waiting on the porch. He’s wearing an impeccable black tux, while his hair is in perfect disarray—as if he’d been messing with it non-stop. My heart stops for a moment. He’s devastatingly handsome, and I’ve missed him. But that doesn’t mean I should forgive him.
Still, my heart is beating so hard I fear it’s about to jump out of my chest and run away.
Standing tall, I walk forward and go meet him on the porch.
Our eyes lock and it’s like a grenade has gone off in my chest. I can’t sustain eye contact for more than a few seconds, so I look at my dad instead.
Oblivious to the underlying tension between Gabriel and me, Dad is looking at me teary-eyed. “This is exactly how I’d imagined your prom night would be. You’re gorgeous, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, Dad.”
Mom seems too choked up to even speak.
“Come, come.” Dad ushers me forward. “I want to take a picture.”
I go to Gabriel. Without a word, he gently grabs my hand and secures a corsage of pretty pink flowers that go perfectly with my dress.
“You look stunning,” he whispers.
I just glare at him, trying to fuel my inner rage to combat the part of me that wants to forgive him and melt into his arms.
“Stand closer for the picture,” Dad insists.
Gabriel loops an arm around my shoulder and pulls me to him. Having half my body suddenly pressed into his solid warmth does not help my resolve, especially not when his smell hits me in all its brutal force.
The instinct to turn around and pull him in for a kiss is so strong I have to clench my fists to keep my hands to myself.
I am so going to kill Marissa for this.
After a million pictures, my parents wave us off to the waiting limousine on the street.
I allow Gabriel to help me into the car, but the moment he steps inside with me and closes his door, I want to run back to the house screaming that this is a mistake. That somehow, I’m going to lose my mind to my memories if I don’t get out.
