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It's been years since I lived here at my parents' house, and yet everything feels just as it was when I left. The same worn-out furniture in the living room, the same pictures hanging on the walls, the same creaky stairs that lead down to the kitchen, which produces scents of ginger and sugar and smoke.
I take a deep breath and try to shake off the lingering sadness from last night. But as I walk downstairs, the echoes of my parents' conversation make me stop in my tracks.
"Is she alright?" my dad is asking. "Did you talk to her?"
"No," my mom replies. "I didn't even see her at the wedding; she was dancing with Finn, and the next thing I knew, she was gone."
"Is she sick?"
"I'm not sure."
I clear my throat from the stairs and my parents' gaze snaps toward me, looking exactly like you would expect from two people who were just talking about you. "I'm not sick," I say awkwardly, "just so you two aren't worried."
But in truth, I'm more than just sick. I'm in love with Finn, and I don't know how to tell anyone, let alone deal with the repercussions that will come with it.
I kissed someone who isn't my fiancé.
Shameful.
I sit down at the kitchen table, feeling the weight of my parents' stares on me. "Would you like some breakfast, dear?" my mom asks, trying to break the tension.
"Yes, please," I reply, grateful for the distraction. My mind races with thoughts of Finn and the text he sent me. Does he regret what happened? Is he angry?Disgusted? Is this just another form of rejection from the guy who's been rejecting me for years?
No...last night--that was real. I can't help but replay the moments we spent together at the wedding, his hand on the small of my back, his eyes looking into mine.
The way he kissed me like he loved me.
Steven has never kissed me like that.
But then Steven flashes in my mind, and I feel a pang of guilt. I can't just throw away our relationship, can I?
Mom sets down a plate of steamed buns on the table, handing each of us a plate of our own, and Dad and I help ourselves to the delicious homemade food. I wish it tasted better, but my mouth is dry from worrying all night, my head spinning.
"You look unwell," Mom says, reaching out to put her hand on my forehead. "Are you feverish?"
"No," I shake my head. I bite my lip, staring down at the steamed buns, and I swallow hard.
I need to tell them.
I need to tell them before this goes any further.
"Mom...Dad," I start. "How angry would you be if I broke off my engagement to Steven?"
My parents exchange glances, surprise and concern etched into their expressions. "Why would you do that?" my dad asks, his voice soft and gentle.
He doesn't sound angry.
He doesn't even sound that surprised.
So I keep going.
"Because...because I'm in love with someone else," I confess, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "Someone I've loved for a long time."
There's a stunned silence at the table, and I feel like I'm about to be sick. But then my mom reaches across the table to take my hand, and her expression is kind and understanding.
"Who is it?" she asks softly.
I close my eyes for a moment, steeling myself. "Finn Carson," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.
