to us, we love you so much. Come stand directly behind us in this family portrait and suck in your stomach.
There’s a smorgasbord of bullshit here to detest, but I think the thing I hate the most about Mr. and Mrs. Rose is that they still call their son Nicky. He won’t even let me call him Nick. When they’re not calling him Nicky and kissing his cheeks like he’s five years old, they’re calling him Dr. Rose and photocopying his dentist certificates to hang in their own study. They’re vicarious dentists and lecture their friends about gum disease.
I can’t possibly back out now. Everyone would be gossiping about me, spreading rumors. I’d look like a failure and an idiot. I’d have wasted thousands of dollars. There’s no exit strategy, so I’m holding my breath and winging it.
I look at Nicholas and realize I am actually marrying this man. Forty percent because I love him and sixty percent because I’m too afraid to call it off. Everyone, including his parents, said we’d never make it down the aisle. I have so much pride that I’ll do it just to prove them wrong.
“Fine, then, don’t help me,” Nicholas huffs, hurling an irritated look at me. I’ve ruined his evening. Stupendous. “I’ll be rushed for time and I’m already stressed out, but what else is new?”
“Preach, sister,” I mutter under my breath. He grumbles and bangs more cabinets, which gives me an oddly satisfying feeling. Misery loves company, after all. If I’m going to be thinking vindictive thoughts all night, I might as well drag him down into the trenches with me.
When we park in front of Brandy’s, Nicholas sees Zach on the porch and eyes me sideways.
“Great. That guy is here,” Nicholas mutters. He knows his name, but he’s pretending not to. Tonight he’ll pretend he doesn’t know any of their names, like they’re below his notice, as revenge for them not liking him.
Zach isn’t doing anything but petting a cat on the porch railing, but I’ve complained about him ten thousand times to Nicholas for sneaking food from my lunchbox at work and regularly bailing on his shifts without any notice, so as much as I want to argue with every word that comes out of his mouth, I look down at my cards and decide not to play my hand.
“How long do we have to stay?” he grumbles. “Will there be food? I didn’t eat before I left. And I don’t want to be out late. I have things to do tomorrow.” You’d think I forced him to come. I try to remember what falling in love felt like and can’t recall. It must have been over with very quickly.
I think he senses I’m losing my patience because when I slam my door, he doesn’t say a word, just stuffs his hands in his pockets and follows slowly like he’s on his way to the electric chair.
I have never behaved this way when roles are reversed and we’re spending time with Nicholas’s friends. I have perpetual purple shadows under my eyes and every time they see me they ask me if I’m sick. Every. Single. Time. One of these friends is an ex of Nicholas’s, so I know she’s doing it just to screw with me.
Zach’s eyes sharpen when they narrow on Nicholas, who’s stomping up the driveway with a scowl. Zach stops petting the cat and takes a long swallow of beer, one finger crooking around the glass neck. He never takes his eyes off Nicholas as he drains the whole bottle. “Well, well, well,” he says with a smirk. “Look who’s gracing us with his presence.”
Nicholas tries not to break eye contact first because they’re doing some kind of male standoff thing, but he’s looking a little unnerved. Zach holds the door open for me, which is the first chivalrous thing I’ve ever seen him do. He slips in behind me before Nicholas can get up the last step and lets the door swing shut in his face.
I glare at Zach and open the door for my stricken fiancé, who has never been treated so rudely in his life. He will surely call his mother later and tell her all about it. Zach gives me his patented dead-eyed expression, shrugs, and walks into the kitchen without a backward glance.
Nicholas doesn’t belong in this part of my life, and we both know it. He’s here because he took my laugh as a dare, and he’s every bit as