“What is going on?” screeches Ursula, running to the aid of her children. “What did you do?” No surprise she directs her question at me. Stella screams hysterically, running to the aid of Augusto, who has turned whiter than a ghost.
“I did nothing,” I spit, shaking off Kyle, but he has lockjaw. “Satan number one in training wheels just bit me. Then the other two joined in. No offense, but your kids are jerks.” Again, not proud of my choice of words, but it’s tame compared to what I originally thought.
“Mommy, she used a bad word!” says Benjamin from around my forearm. Taking advantage of this opportunity, I push at his forehead, and he thankfully lets go. Unfortunately, I had to use a little force, and he topples backward, joining Grandpa on the floor. The moment he connects with the carpet, I know what’s going to happen.
He bursts into staged, over-the-top tears. And they call me a drama queen.
When the other two notice their brother is louder than them, they too decide to turn on the waterworks and fall theatrically to the floor. This means I am free from their razor-sharp teeth, but I am certainly not free from the wrath of their mother.
“I hope you’re happy,” she snarls, cocooning her kids into her bosom. They look at me from under their fair lashes, grinning a sinister smirk. God have mercy on their future wives.
“Happy?” I scoff, standing. “I’m covered in slobber and probably need a tetanus shot, so no, I’m not happy. But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is finding out what your sister really thinks about you. So who is this apparent dog I’ve laid with? Maybe for once, someone in this fucking family can tell me what the hell is going on!”
Stella’s eyes widen, and the whites almost look translucent. I’ve struck a nerve, but she’s got another thing coming if she thinks I’m about to stop now.
“Oh, that’s real nice. Showing your class right there by using such vulgar language,” spits Ursula, attempting to shield her children’s ears from my blasphemy. They only cry louder.
“Oh, please. That’s nothing. If you want vulgar, I’ll bring vulgar, you fuc—”
Ursula flies into a rage. “My children will need therapy after tonight!”
“They’ll need something,” I mutter under my breath, raising my glass in salute.
The mood is tense, and we’re seconds away from starting something that is sure to end bloody and in tears. This can’t get any worse.
“Peyton? Babe?” And just like that, things do get worse—a lot worse.
Babe? What right does he have to use that term of endearment?
Everyone’s attention rivets to the doorway where a man stands, examining the insanity before him. Straightening out her outfit, Stella quickly rises, leaving Augusto to fend for himself. “Calvin, it’s not time yet,” she gently cautions. I’ve never heard her speak so delicately before.
The mysterious man, whose name is apparently Calvin, doesn’t take any notice of her because his interest lies elsewhere. It’s with me. He’s attractive if you like the Abercrombie type, but he’s way too straitlaced for me. And Stella seems to like him, which is an instant turn-off.
“I know, but I couldn’t wait. I’ve waited long enough.” He steps forward, arm outstretched like he’s expecting me to run into his embrace. I do the complete opposite and take a step back.
His surprise is evident, and he stops, inhaling slowly. He’s not accustomed to rejection.
I have no idea who this man is or why he has any right to be here when we’re in the middle of World War III. Ursula is the first to break the silence.
“You wanted to know what is going on. Well, here’s your chance.” She sweeps her hand toward Calvin as if he’s the key.
“Ursula!” scolds Stella, which only arouses my interest more.
Luis’s warning sounds loudly, and I wonder if this is my surprise. The someone who was waiting for me upstairs. If so, I want a refund.
Lachlan clucks his tongue, rushing forward with a stagger to his step. It’s clear he’s had one too many scotches. But is there really such a thing in this place? “Peyton, meet Calvin.”
“Lachlan, that’s enough!” Stella’s warning is fierce, but he doesn’t care. The alcohol has given him a buzz, and he’ll worry about the consequences later.
“She has a right to know.”
My blood turns cold. “Know what?”
Lachlan turns to me with a look I recognize all too well—pity. “Peyton, Calvin is…”
“Is what?” I demand, on the verge of hysteria. Finally, the answers I have sought out are near. But I would have never guessed what Ursula reveals. Not in a million years.
She pulls back her shoulders with a smug smile. She takes great pleasure in my pain. I brace myself, but nothing can prepare me for what she says. “Calvin is your fiancé. He’s here to take you home.”
I could use all the cheesy clichés like my life flashes before my eyes or what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, but there is only one word to summarize how I’m feeling right now, and that word is FUCK!
Fiancé?
As in I was engaged to be married to this…to this tool? I can’t believe it.
“No.” I gasp, shaking my head in utter disbelief. “I-it can’t be true.” The walls begin closing in on me, and the darkness, which I’ve held at bay for days, begins to creep out of the shadows.
“It is true. Oh, babe. I’ve missed you.” Calvin advances forward while I cover my mouth. I’m going to be sick.
“Stop. Right there,” I manage to choke out, thrusting out my hand. If he takes one more step, I’ll puke all over his Italian loafers. “Is this true?” It’s a sad day in history when one is asking Stella for the truth.
She clears her throat before something that some would call a smile passes over her face. It’s gone before I can second-guess it. “Yes. As usual, Calvin can’t keep a secret.”
He smirks, holding up his hands playfully. “Guilty as charged.” His spirited nature just adds to the anger brewing within me. “It was torture waiting upstairs.”
“Upstairs?” I whisper, calming my ragged breaths. He nods while I dig my fingernails into my palms. “What about waiting for the past six months? Was that torture because I know it was for me.”
His mischief soon disappears. “Babe—”