Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
I laughed with him.
“Hey, I wanted to give you this,” he said, reaching into his suit pocket. “I know it’s soon, but I’d love to have you there.”
I opened the thick cream envelope and pulled out a beautiful, simple wedding invitation. And my heart dropped.
I didn’t want my heart to drop. I knew it wasn’t a rational reaction or one that even matched up with my thoughts. But when you’re with someone for as long as we were, your body reacts despite your mind, and mine just dropped my heart to my stomach seeing the two names boldly engraved on the card.
Jackson Fields and Jake Wellington.
Not Carina Russo and Jake Wellington.
Any confidence I’d gained earlier dimmed. Two names on a piece of paper and I shrank back into the woman I was after the breakup. I forced my most confident smile even though I knew it didn’t reach my eyes.
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
And I wouldn’t. Jake was my friend—my partner, even if he wasn’t my life partner anymore. I wouldn’t miss him getting married for anything.
He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to my forehead and left.
I dropped the envelope and pushed the feelings aside. I was just lonely, and maybe a little jealous.
But maybe I didn’t have to be alone right now. Not taking time to consider my fears, I picked up my phone and quickly sent out a message.
Me: Dinner at Nada tomorrow at seven?
Ian: I knew you couldn’t resist. ;*
Ian: Meet you there.
I rolled my eyes at his response.
But I also smiled.
7 Ian
Silverware chimed amongst the quiet hum of talking. The restaurant was too posh to be noisy.
But it all translated to white noise as I waited for my parents to arrive for lunch. Nothing was loud enough to break through the nervous chaos running rampant in my mind. I almost laughed at the situation I found myself in. A thirty-three-year-old man shaking in his boots, about to tell his parents he knocked a woman up, hoping they didn’t think too lowly of him. Jesus, could I be any more of a little boy hoping for their approval.
I knew one thing; they’d love Carina. She was strong and put together.
My father’s salt and pepper hair stood tall above the other patrons entering the restaurant. My mother towed behind him as he broke through the waiting guests. When he approached the table, I stood, wiping my sweaty palms on my slacks before shaking his hand.
“Dad.”
“Son.”
My mother moved around him, and I still had to lean over for her to kiss my cheek, even when she wore her stilettos. How she balanced in them, I’d never know, but she vowed to wear them every chance she got, claiming she wore tennis shoes and scrubs enough that she had to dress up when she could.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Ian,” she held my face in her palms and looked me over, seeming to approve of what she saw because she released me and sat in the chair my dad pulled out for her. “How are you?”
I had to take a deep breath and put the reins on my nerves, demanding I shout it out. I didn’t want the first thing out of my mouth to ruin the meal before the appetizer. “I’m good. Staying busy. Nothing to complain about.”
Before we could continue the riveting conversation, our waitress came over, and we ordered.
“So, how was your trip?” I asked, getting the conversation going again. Sometimes, conversation between my parents and me could be stilted.
“It was good. Africa is always beautiful this time of year,” my father answered.
“We’re sorry we missed your birthday.”
Not only had they been gone—which was nothing new, they’d missed over half my birthdays—but they also hadn’t called until the following week. “It’s okay, Mom,” I answered on rote.
“Time just goes by so fast, and the dates blur together,” she explained.
“I understand.” I didn’t understand, but it was easier to just say I did.
“How’s Erik?” my dad asked, changing the subject.
“Good. He’s been happier with Alexandra.”
“It’s good he’s finally settling down.”
Somehow, I was always surprised they never asked if I was settling down. Was I so disinteresting to them to not even inquire?
I ground my jaw and took my opening, knowing it wouldn’t come from them. “Speaking of settling down, I called you here for a reason.”
Our waitress took that moment to bring us our food. After everything was situated, I began again.
“So…” With a deep breath, I laid it all out there the only way I knew how, with a little bit of light humor. “How do you feel about being grandparents? Because I’m nervous as hell about being a dad.”
I used my best business meeting smile and held my breath as two sets of wide eyes meet mine, their silverware dropping to their plates.
My mother was the first to recover. “I had no idea you were seeing anyone seriously.”