annoyance seeped into my skin.
“That’s before I reevaluated your vehicle situation,” he rudely added. “Your car’s not safe.”
This guy!
Didn’t he realize I drove the girls to school in this car?
Forced friends—that was what we were because I could guarantee that I wouldn’t be friends by choice with this stuck-up, designer-wearing automobile snob. I wanted to put a mute button on him that I could control with a remote.
“Why is it that you like to constantly annoy me?” I glanced down at my 2010 Camry. “It’s a perfectly well-working vehicle, and we’ve discussed this. I’m driving. Now, get in the car!”
If he didn’t get in the car in the next minute, we would definitely be late. I glanced back at the house to make sure that no windows were open, and the girls weren’t accidentally learning new words.
“Calm your panties. Fine.” He held out his hand, palm up. “Compromise. Give me the keys.”
I gritted my teeth and slapped them in his hand because there was no time to argue. I hoped this was the right choice, taking him to meet my friends and then tomorrow when Jeff and my replacement would show up. I hoped it was worth all this because he was killing me softly and slowly with irritation.
“You’d better be worth all this trouble,” I muttered as I slipped in the car.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’m a sure thing.” He winked, and I wanted to slap him.
“I’m surprised none of your girlfriends has killed you in your sleep yet.” I shot him a look. “Because you’re so annoying!”
Forty minutes later, we were in front of the church. The light was shining overhead as the sun set in front of us in an array of pinks and purples that highlighted the sky. It was as if the universe was showering down its blessings on Carrie and Tim, but it still couldn’t ease the tightness in my chest.
When he stepped out of the car, Brad reached for my hand. It was the first time our hands had ever met intimately, a fusion of fingers. “I promise not to annoy you for the rest of the night if you promise to relax.”
“Relax? What’s that?” I laughed without humor. My muscles were tense, the veins on my neck strained. Soon enough, a full-on migraine would attack.
I’d never lied this big before. Tiny little lies, sure. White little lies that didn’t hurt anyone, I was okay with that. But this—pretending Brad and I were romantically involved—was different.
“Yes, just relax. Close your eyes and breathe.” Brad stopped walking and pulled me in front of him, our hands intertwined.
I closed my eyes but still could not calm my nerves.
His thumb slowly made circles on the top of my wrist. “You’re going to be fine.”
I hoped and wished and prayed that was true. I took three full, calming breaths through my nose and out my mouth, and soon enough, the warmth of the sunlight on my face and the comfort of his hold eased me. “I don’t even know why I’m going through all this trouble.” That was another lie. I knew why … because looks mattered, and I didn’t want to look like the loser I really was. “Everyone is engaged or married or in a serious relationship. I think I’m the only one in my friend group that isn’t. And, now, Jeff is going to be there with her.”
“So?”
“So?” My eyes flew open, and I openly gaped at him.
“I mean, why does it matter, Sonia? Who cares?”
“I care.” Every muscle in my neck tensed, and I gripped my dress within my fingertips. “Are all your friends married or in a serious relationship? They have to be if you’re thirty-three.”
“Yes, most.” His tone was even, unbothered, unfazed.
And I was jealous. I wanted to not care because then this would be easier, and I wouldn’t need to pretend and lie and bring Brad to this wedding.
He peered at the church, noting the people already walking inside. “One of them is even divorced, but I don’t care. Because that’s them, and this is me. Why should what’s happening in their lives have an effect on mine?” And this was Brad in all his blunt honesty.
My shoulders slouched, and my stomach churned. Why couldn’t I force myself to not care? Why couldn’t I be stronger when it came to this? “I wish I had your confidence.”
He tipped up my chin with the lightness of his fingertip, his other hand wrapped around mine. “I wasn’t always this confident.”
I tilted my head