Infinite Us - Eden Butler Page 0,102

my life, shoot far away from my family and the lives we lived in Washington D.C. In that moment I only wanted to be on some imaginary island with Isaac, forgetting the world and everything in it but the two of us. No one mattered, no one existed in that place but me and the man I loved.

“Riley, are you all set for classes this upcoming semester?” I started, hitting my elbow on the table as Mr. Dexter’s booming question cut through my private reverie and struggled to gain my composure as I noticed everyone around the table looking at me, politely waiting for my answer.

I crossed my leg, keeping my ankle out of reach of my brother’s nudging foot. “Yes,” I answered Mr. Dexter, falling back on my most practiced, sugary sweet expression. “I’ve enrolled in a course on the fall of Constantinople, one on statistical methodology, and Dr. Matthis is doing a seminar on the Protestant Reformation. Should be a good semester.”

Trent’s father smiled at me patronizingly. “Indeed, indeed,” he crooned, but I don't think my answer even registered with him as he turned his attention to my father. “It’s good you let her continue with studying, Eric.” His hand fell on my father's shoulder, in an attempt at a shared camaraderie. “Mind, it’s best not to let young women become too invested in their studies.”

“And why’s that?” My father asked, his good-natured smile never lowering, but I could see the muscles in his jaw suddenly clench. Mom must have sensed something in his demeanor, in the way she sat up straighter, as if preparing to intervene if need be. “A good education is such an important part of any young person's development, women as well as men. Why on earth should my daughter, anyone’s daughter, not be invested in their education?”

Trent’s father didn’t know my dad that well. Their paths crossed, yes, especially with Trent and me dating for a few months, but I don't believe they’d ever spoken about anything personal, certainly not outside of work. From the look of the effort my dad was having to go through to maintain his composure, I guessed that was likely a good thing.

“Ah, so,” Mr. Dexter said, dismissing my father's question and turning to his son. “Trent, you must bring Riley back around next week. Your Uncle Ray will be in town; we’ll have to take the boat out to show him the lake. You'd like that, wouldn't you, Riley?” He smiled at me as if he had just bestowed on me a great honor, nodding once as his own confirmation, fully expecting me to agree. When I only glared back at him, Mr. Dexter cleared his throat, obviously not used to his gestures being met with anything other than delight and gratitude.

“Riley would love—” Trent jumped in, answering for me when I opened my mouth to speak. But his thoughtless assumption of control shattered the resolve I had made to at all costs remain civil at what should have been just another Washington dinner. In one fleeting moment, my father's clenched jaw and red face, and my mother’s look of glittering concern, made me realize that they would stand behind me regardless of the consequences.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Dexter,” I said, standing to face him, my voice solid and clear, "but Trent will not be ‘bringing me around’ next week, nor will I be accompanying you and your family to the lake." I was aware that other conversations around us were quieting, and while I had no intention of making a scene, I also had no intention of letting any kind of charade Trent was maintaining continue at my expense. “In fact, I will never again allow a man who thinks hitting a woman in the face is acceptable behavior to date me, or have anything to do with me, even if his last name is Dexter.”

There was a brief pause as the admission sunk in, and then a number of things happened at once. The buzz in the room started up again, gossip no doubt spreading like wildfire. Mr. Dexter looked at me askance, broadcasting disbelief as his eyes darted surreptitiously around the room as if tallying up 'aye' or 'nay' votes in his head. Both Mom and Ryan had stood up to join Dad, who had drawn himself up with his eyes glaring, but knowing me well enough to wait and see what would play out before stepping in. Mom laid a hand on Dad’s arm,