“Come here, bitch,” Penelope calls to me from the few feet away that she stands. The reception is in full swing, so I can finally converse with the other guests and take in some much-needed alcohol after spending the last hour taking pictures, pretending to be perfectly happy while inside, I’m completely off-kilter.
Pulling her into a hug, I squeeze her tightly. “I’m sorry, Pen.”
“Me too, Char. I know your relationship with your mom is complicated and so is this thing with Damien. I just hate seeing you so indecisive. I know who you are and what you deserve, and I just wish you’d finally fight for that.”
“I’m trying, Pen. And I’m sorry for what I said about you and men. I know you’ve been hurt and that was unfair of me to point out how you choose to handle those relationships now.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re right though. We all have our own shit to deal with in our own way. But I love you and the last thing I want you to think is that I don’t support you.” She grabs me by the shoulders. “I do.”
“I know. Just let me figure this out, okay?”
She nods. “Okay. You look freaking hot by the way,” she says as she eyes me up and down. “And your ass looks amazing in that dress.”
“That it does.” Damien comes up behind me, laying claim to my rear-end with his hand as he pulls me into his side.
“Damien. You treating my girl right?” Penelope teases.
“As good as a fake boyfriend can,” he says as my heart twists with more indecision. This is the second time today he’s mentioned something about our fake relationship, which has me wondering if he’s trying to remind me of the terms. Perhaps all of the comments my mother has been making about marriage and babies are finally getting to him. “Forgive me, Penelope, but I came over here to steal Charlotte away for a second.”
“I guess you can have her, but you’d better be prepared to keep her,” Penelope replies with a sneaky smile on her face.
“What’s up, Damien?”
“Come dance with me, Charlotte.” He grabs my hand and leads me toward the dance floor as a slow song starts playing over the speakers.
When we reach the corner of the dancefloor, he pulls me into his chest and rests his hands on my hips and his forehead on mine.
“Are you and Penelope okay now?” he asks as we start to move side to side.
“Yeah. We talked a bit just before you came over actually.”
“Good. You seem a little more at ease.”
“Yeah, I guess. But my entire body just feels wound tight right now.”
He smirks down at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I know of a way to help you relax.”
Chuckling, I pull his lips closer to mine. “That sounds amazing, but it was a feat to get me into this dress, and it doesn’t exactly allow for easy access.”
“Sounds like a challenge to me. And you know I never back down from a challenge.”
“There you two are!” I spin around to see my mother and Damien’s mom speed walking across the room toward us.
“Oh God, what does she want now,” I mutter under my breath.
“Damien, I really want a picture of you with your father and me,” Brenda says. “Can I borrow you for a second?”
My mother has to add her suggestion, of course. “Well, shouldn’t Charlotte be in the picture too since they’re practically engaged at this point?”
Brenda’s eyebrows perk up. “Oh, yes! That would be lovely. It will be a great memory to have down the road.”
“Oh, no…that’s not necessary,” I say, trying to avoid any more lies to look back on through copious amounts of photo evidence.
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s necessary.” Twisting to the side, I see Damien’s dad approach us with a menacing look on his face.
“Either Charlotte is in the picture, or I’m not,” Damien counters, and suddenly the tension between everyone increases tenfold. The two men have a silent stare down as everyone waits to see who will speak first.
Brenda’s face transforms from worried to a fake smile in a flash. “Perfect. Well, let’s do this then.”
Feeling unwanted and awkward as hell, I follow Damien and his parents over to the wall that the photographer directs us to. We gather close together and then pose for a few shots as I feel Damien tense beside me. His face is stoic, but I can tell he’s pissed by what just happened.
When we’re done, Damien goes to lead me away, but his father reaches out and grabs Damien’s arm before we get too far. “Damien, a word, please.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“We need to talk and you will listen to what I have to say, young man.”
Damien narrows his eyes at his dad, but then turns to me for a second. “I’ll be right back, Char.” With a press of his lips to my cheek, he leaves, following his father through an archway that leads to a hallway just outside the room the reception is being held in.
“Oh my God, Charlotte! Those pictures are going to be so lovely,” my mother says, coming up to me once more. “You and Damien will be joining our families together, and your father and I couldn’t be more thrilled.”
“Mom…” I try to cut in as my pulse spikes, and I worry about what’s going on between Damien and his dad.
“You two need to start talking about wedding plans so we can get to planning and booking a venue. You know most places book out at least a year in advance, but I think we could find something sooner or call in a favor if needed. And then babies,” she croons, faking tears. “Remember, it takes nine months to bake one of those little bundles of joy, ten technically.”
“Mom…” But she just keeps talking as my adrenaline roars through my body.
“And you need to think about when you will be due. If you get married in the spring, you could have a baby by next Christmas. It would be the perfect present for me and your father, besides you getting married of course. I’m just so happy that you and Damien are together now. It’s really helped relieve the stress I carry about your future, wondering if you’re going to end up all alone like my sister,” she says before rolling her eyes. “But it looks like I don’t have to worry anymore, and neither do you. Damien is a great guy, although he doesn’t make as much money as I’d like for your husband to make, but you’re lucky to have reconnected with him at this point in your life. Who knows how much longer you would have been single if you two hadn’t crossed paths again—”
“Oh my God! Just stop!” I shout, drawing the attention of everyone in the room over the volume of the music, but my mind can’t take any more of this. The lava is hot, and my soul is ready to erupt.
“What?”
“Jesus, do you hear yourself?” I say, throwing my hands up in the air. “You just had an entire conversation with yourself about MY life, and when I should get married and start having children. I hope to God you don’t say stuff like this to other women.” The rubber band keeping my mouth shut has finally snapped, and now I have no control over what is coming out of my mouth. “What if a woman wants kids but is struggling with fertility? What if another decided that kids aren’t for her? But more than that, when a woman decides whether or not to have children is none of your goddamn business!”
My mother acts shocked and appalled that I’m raising my voice to her, but I don’t care. “Charlotte, please lower your voice,” she says as her eyes scan the room and then land back on me. “I just don’t want you to waste any more time. You’re not getting any younger, dear.”
“Oh, believe me, I know! You know why? Because you use every available moment to tell me so!”
My mom starts looking around the room again where I’m sure numerous people are gathering around to witness my blowup.
But I seriously don’t fucking care anymore. I am done.