Married to My Enemy

The table was set beautifully, and the house was spotless. Already, I could tell that Mrs. Romano seemed like a sweet woman who was determined to leave a good first impression on me and my parents. I knew she couldn’t have possib

ly known how much of a jerk her son was, and what she was signing me up for.

“Let me help you set the table,” my mother offered.

“I can help too,” I chimed in, wanting an excuse to limit my time in Gio’s presence. I hoped we would eat fast, and leave.

“No, that’s all right, dear,” Mrs. Romano said. “You’re the guest of honor. Please, take a seat and make yourself at home.”

I swallowed and once again, tried not to cry as I watched my mother head to the kitchen with my future mother-in-law.

“Arianna.” I turned around to see Giovanni standing behind me with an exceptionally large and beautiful bouquet of flowers. “These are for you,” he said, though not quite meeting my eyes.

“Thank you,” I said, without making any motion to take them.

Giovanni pursed his lips together. “I’ll just set these in the living room then, so you can grab them on the way out.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

He headed down the hall and out of sight. When I turned back around, his father and my father were both staring at me. I fidgeted slightly under their gaze.

Mr. Romano smiled. “Let’s have a seat, shall we?”

I stared at the table, hesitating to figure out where to sit. Mr. Romano moved toward the head of the table, while my dad took the corner seat beside him. Just as I was about to move toward the other side of my father, Mr. Romano pulled out a chair for me beside him.

“Thank you,” I said, feeling as if I had no choice but to accept the seat.

“No problem, dear.”

Shortly after that, Gio returned. And to my horror, he sat down beside me.

Trapped between my so-called future husband and father-in-law, I felt smothered already.

Moments later, my mother and Mrs. Romano returned, carrying dishes of food to the table.

“So, Arianna—I understand that you’re a teacher?” Mr. Romano said.

I smiled politely. “Yes, sir. I teach second grade.”

“How do you like it?”

“I love it. It’s the most rewarding job I could possibly think of.”

“Until you have your own children, of course,” Mr. Romano said with a chuckle.

I clenched my jaw and stared at the tablecloth, biting back a retort. Mrs. Romano set a plate in front of me. “Thank you,” I said to her.

“You’re more than welcome.”

Not before long, she and my mother joined us at the table—my mother sitting beside my father, and Mrs. Romano sitting at the opposite side of the table, across from her husband.

“Dinner looks delicious,” Daddy said.

“Thank you, although I can’t take the credit,” Mrs. Romano said. “It was catered in.”

Every laughed, and I forced myself to join in.

“Luca, will you lead us in saying grace?” Mrs. Romano requested.