Page 48 of Yours Temporarily

Clearly not, because Dad just puts up with whatever Mom directs.

She dismisses the tension, her focus shifting to the evening ahead. “It’s going to be a marvelous night.” With a flick of those black nails, she ushers us to follow her. “Morgan has dinner ready.”

Right. Her ability to glide over family discord is a practiced art.

When we emerge into the main room, several of our family and friends are standing around, others are seated, and most are holding glasses containing amber or red liquid. Their chatter rises, combining with Mom’s harping on the florist to move the flowers away from the space designed for the wedding cake.

“All right, everyone.” Her voice pierces through the vast room. “The boys are here.”

“Welcome!”

“Woo-hoo!” voices resound from the crowd.

My father stands from where he’s sitting with four gentlemen, all dressed in formal suits. His smile meets his eyes, and I grieve for him. He’s always willing to put up with Mom’s antics.

Then my brother whispers, “Ho boy. There’s Sonya.”

Heels click on the smooth floor, and a familiar figure emerges from the library. She’s dressed in a snug cocktail dress, certainly for show, revealing more than it should. My emotions go into a freefall. My hand slides from Zuri’s back to her side in a futile attempt to shield my heart.

Catching my mother’s eye, I see a flicker of understanding or perhaps a challenge.

“It’s been so long since you’ve seen family friends. What better occasion for a reunion than a wedding?”

With that, she’s dismissed my discomfort, having orchestrated this moment for her own reasons. How can she not see Sonya was a bad investment that squandered years of my life and left me emotionally bankrupt?

CHAPTER 18

Zuri

“Stay true to yourself.” Hope’s advice rings in the back of my mind as a woman, the kind I see on a magazine cover, strides toward us, all long legs and exposed skin. Her calculated focus zeroes in on Jeremy, and my heart clenches.

I scarcely belong here in this elegant setting with its posh occupants. This feels more suited to a high-end TV drama than reality. But then, maybe that’s what I need to remind myself. None of this is my reality and this man beside me is nothing more than my fake fiancé.

The ease with which Jeremy’s hand slips away from mine doesn’t just sting—it releases an avalanche of doubts. Uncertainty crashes over me, challenging my every rehearsed response.

It’d help if I knew if he was shocked or surprised. Or both? But our connection wavers, and all I sense is the communication between him and this woman as he gawks. I catch snippets of Gavin and Hope’s conversation with a man they greet warmly as “Dad,” yet my focus remains tethered to Jeremy and the blonde with perfectly painted red lips.

“Jeremy dear, aren’t you going to introduce Sonya to your friend?” Sara’s voice puts an end to the silent exchange. “What’s her name again?”

Her feigned forgetfulness crafts a dismissal I cannot ignore. Her gaze flits between Sonya and me, then settles on Jeremy, clearly pleased with this reunion she’s orchestrated.

But this is why Jeremy brought me here. This is my role. Regardless of the undercurrents of discomfort, I reclaim his hand and my role. As Jeremy seems to shrink under the pressure of the situation, I suck in my tummy and stand taller. Despite my slightly elevated shoes, I still have to crane to peer up at Sonya. And somehow, I introduce myself with a veneer of confidence. “I’m Zuri. Jeremy’s fiancée.”

I mask a smile, and while it’s courtesy to shake hands, I suspect Sonya, like Sara, dislikes shaking strangers’ hands. That works out for me. I have no intention of being embarrassed should I get dismissed. I simply wave.

“Sonya,” she sings-songs her own introduction and shifts her gaze to Jeremy. Her stilettos put her almost to the same height as Jeremy. Her cocktail dress hits midthigh, far too revealing and fancy for a casual family dinner. My bohemian pants fastened over a long-sleeve top feel underdressed, save for Hope, Jeremy, and Gavin who seem equally casual.

“Sara didn’t tell me you were engaged.”

Jeremy finally returns my grip on our hands. He clears his throat and apparently remembers I’m here. “Mom’s been too busy to remember everything.”

“Jeremy and Sonya have known each other since they were kids,” Sara cuts in, then highlights the shared history between their families.

“Jeremy told me everything, actually.” I find strength in my role. After all, we’ve been preparing for this for over two months. “You’re back in your town after some time away, right?” I let my brow rise as I address Sonya. What I’m saying is that she’s recently divorced.

I think she gets the memo. She finally gives me her full attention. Her face hardens as she peers down at me, and her confidence almost wavers under my gaze. Despite the victory, something pinches my chest over causing her discomfort. I’m not like that, one to give such cheap shots.

A middle-aged man steps right between Sonya and us, diffusing the tension, and pats Jeremy’s shoulder. “Son.”

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