There was a serious undertone disguised as a polite greeting in the room when I entered. What had I interrupted? Were Dad and Connor at it again, or was this about Barrett and me?
Mom, Dad, and Conner were all seated around the dining table. Barrett hadn’t arrived yet. With an empty plate and half-finished drink in front of him, I wondered how long Connor had been here.
“Darling. How are you doing?” Dad remained seated as I came round to kiss him on the cheek.
“I’m okay, I guess. I just feel for Barrett.”
“Yes, it must be difficult for him,” Mom added.
After greeting Mom and Connor, I sat down next to the empty chair. A terrible feeling settled at the base of my stomach.
I hadn’t eaten all day—that must be it.
I picked at the cold meats and cheeses, trying to make the feeling go away. “Have you spoken to Barrett?” I asked Connor.
“No. He hasn’t taken my calls, but I imagine he’s been in crisis talks all day.”
I nodded. Yes, that’s why he hasn’t called you back, Lourde.
“Anyway, why did you call us both here? Do you have a plan that can help Barrett?”
I looked up to find three sets of eyes on me.
“Lourde, we—”
“Good evening,” Barrett said, cutting off Dad.
Dressed in the same suit had he rushed out the door in this morning, tiredness plagued his handsome face. His eyes met mine briefly, his mouth flattening into a strained smile.
I stood up to greet him, the legs of the chair scratching along the floorboards. I pressed my lips to his, but all I got in return was a peck before he turned to greet the others.
Swallowing down the thickness that lined my throat, I took my seat at the table, nervous about what was about to unfold.