Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
The damn doorbell rang.
With a groan I retraced my steps back down the hall and to the front door. It had to be Jack this late in the evening, which meant more business talk and my seduction plans were on hold anyway. I found a small smile as I opened the door but it quickly faded at the sight of the unexpected visitors. “Mom. What are you doing here?” And more importantly why hadn’t she called first.
My mother stiffened at my question, clutching her Chanel purse tight to her side as if worried someone might steal it. “That’s a fine greeting for your mother.”
I bit back the smart retort on the tip of my tongue. “Well it’s exactly the greeting one should expect when they show up unexpectedly.” I stepped back and waved my parents inside the penthouse. I tried to keep the annoyance off my face and out of my expression and ushered them into the living room. “How are you?” I directed the question to my mother, offering little more than a tolerate pseudo smile for my father.
“Good. You look tired,” Mom offered in her patented hypercritical way. “You need to rest up for your big day.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I deadpan. “So glad you showed up just to tell me I look like shit.”
“Language,” she gasped, hand to her chest as if she was some southern debutante rather than an east coast blue blood.
“We’re here for a reason,” my father began slowly. “Have you discussed a prenuptial agreement?”
I rolled my eyes. “Stop right there,” I told him coldly. “Alex has more money than I do so it’s unnecessary.” Even with my trust, he’s has far more money than me.
“We are just looking out for you,” Mom said in an offended tone. “And he does have a reputation with the ladies.”
I laughed bitterly. “Is that your threshold for a terrible husband, fidelity? Well Alex loves me and I love him.” I sucked in a breath at that unintended admission. Well, half-admission. I loved him but how he felt about me was anybody’s guess.
“Don’t get emotional,” Dad began.
“I am not emotional,” I replied coolly. “And don’t think that just because you’re sober for once that you get to offer any advice on my relationship.”
“Sasha!”
“No,” I shot at Mom. “Alex and I love each other and he appreciates me just as I am. He loves me and he doesn’t try to change me. If that’s not enough to ease your mind, that’s too damn bad.”
“Without a prenup he might have a right to your trust.”
I closed my eyes and reached for patience. “For the last time, Alex is the wealthy one in this relationship. He doesn’t need my money and I don’t need his, end of story.” I shook my head. “I guess you didn’t come by to see me because you missed me.” Of course they hadn’t. The only thing my parents truly cared about was keeping up appearances.
“Of course we missed you,” Mom said, her tone once again offended. “It’s our job to look out for you.”
“Yeah, since when?” Where was that concern when my father spent twenty-three hours of every single day drunk, leaving me to handle too much responsibility because she was more concerned about him. “You weren’t looking out for me when I had to write the checks to pay the household staff because someone forgot. Or when you let your friends get handsy because you were too drunk to worry about your teenage daughter. Or,”
“Yes, I got it Sasha. I failed you as a parent.”
“Exactly that. I invited you to my wedding, not to offer unsolicited advice on my marriage. Maybe that was my mistake.”
Mom sucked in a sharp breath. “No. We appreciate the invitation. It was quite unexpected.”
“I didn’t want you to feel embarrassed by not receiving an invite,” I offered as an olive branch. “I know how important appearances are to you.” The invitation allowed them to pretend that everything between us was perfect.
My father rose from the sofa first. “I guess we will see you at the wedding, then.”
“I’ll be there,” I assured him, stiffly accepted a hug from both of my parents.
“You’ll have to forgive him, forgive us both at some point,” she whispered in my ear.
“Hard to forgive when you haven’t apologized or acknowledged you’ve done anything wrong.” I hugged her back quickly and put some distance between us. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
Completely drained after that short interaction, I pressed my back against the door once my parents were gone and let out several shaky breaths as I realized my hands shook fiercely. I knew exactly why.
The admission.
I was in love with Alex Witter, star winger for the Houston Highlanders. I loved the man I was set to marry in a few hours. And divorce in a couple of years, my inner pragmatist offered up easily. The moment I said the words to my parents I knew they were true. Saying them felt right. There wasn’t a hint of shock or panic at saying the words, or any guilt over lying because it wasn’t a lie.