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Should I have taken the high road and been the bigger person? Maybe.
Do I regret my choice to do the complete opposite? Absolutely not.
Julian knew what he was doing when he used our kiss as a weapon. Maybe next time he will think twice before bringing up the one weakness I have.
Him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Julian
After Thursday’s run-in with Dahlia at Last Call, I knew Sunday would be unpleasant. When I tried to get out of dinner plans, my mother wouldn’t accept my excuse, claiming Rosa needed help fixing something in the kitchen.
Dahlia declares war the moment I step over the Muñoz threshold. Instead of acting like a mature thirty-year-old man and deescalating the situation, I match her snide remarks with my own throughout the afternoon and into family dinner.
Our families watch our exchanges like a tennis championship, their heads swiveling back and forth with every calculated barb.
At some point, our parents take over the conversation, only for my mom to turn toward me withthatlook in her eyes. “I was talking to Annabelle’s mom the other day.”
My body tenses, drawing Dahlia’s eyes to my hiked shoulders.
Fuck.
“Ma,” I warn. We had a deal about her matchmaking, and if she breaks it, then all bets are off for helping Dahlia with the house.
Is that such a bad thing?
On second thought, I hope my mom breaks her word. That way, I have the perfect excuse to pull out of the remodeling plan and leave Dahlia to fend for herself.
Would serve her right after today’s hostility.
Don’t be petty, Julian. You’re the one who brought up the kiss.
At first, I felt validated in my decision to antagonize her, especially once she made her comment about kissing Oliver strictly to get under my skin. But the longer I consider Dahlia’s reaction, the more guilty I feel about our conversation at Last Call and how I have acted today.
Because a hurt Dahlia is a mean Dahlia, and I was too pissed off to see her reaction for what it was.
A way to shield her vulnerability.
She is obviously struggling with overwhelming sadness, and I’m not helping matters by treating her the way I have.
It’s not too late to apologize for what you said.
My mom waves me off. “I know. I know. Never mind.”
“Who’s Annabelle?” Dahlia can’t hide that special glint in her eyes.
“She is someone newer to town whose family moved here from Chicago. Julian dated her a couple of months ago, although their relationship ended rather abruptly.”
“You don’t say,” Dahlia dryly replies.
“Annabelle Meyers?” Lily frowns. “I had no idea you dated her.” The expression of distaste on her face probably matches mine.
I pull at my collar. “She wasn’t worth mentioning.”
“Julian!” my mom calls out.
“How long did they date?” Dahlia asks with the softest, fakest voice.
