Page 95 of Daddies' Little Troublemaker

She responds immediately. She’s fine, don’t bother her with it.

“Fine,” I mutter to the bathroom mirror before taking my shower. I put on the little lavender sundress I bought in Paris. Because there aren’t any bridesmaids, I got to pick whatever I wanted to wear as long as it was lavender, which is probably the only good thing about this wedding.

There’s a knock at my hotel room door. It’s probably Mom, ready to escort me to Chloe’s room to help her, as if I wasn’t already heading there myself.

“Hang on,” I say as I grab my sandals and phone.

When I open the door, it isn’t my mom—it’s Troy.

He looks terrible. Even though he’s wearing a suit and it should make him appear dapper and put together, something about it screams “fake.” His brown hair is combed, his face clean-shaven. A lavender rose is his boutonniere and it looks out of place. It’s as if the boutonniere, like me, wishes it was anywhere but near Troy.

“You gotta listen to me, Evelyn,” he says.

“I really don’t.”

Leaning forward, he traps me between himself and the edge of the doorway. “I fucked up. Chloe’s pregnant.”

I stare up at him, too shocked to shove him back. “She’s—what? What?”

“Pregnant. I always pulled out?—”

Ew.

“Too much information, Troy.” I try to duck under one of his arms.

His hand falls, heavy, on my shoulder as he tries to keep me in place. “Your mom is pressuring me to go through with this, but I still want to be with you, Evelyn. Please. I made so many mistakes.”

And now Chloe will have his kid. It’s so fucked up on so many different levels. The touch of his hand on my bare skin makes my stomach lurch with nausea.

“Troy.” I take a deep breath, praying for patience. “I don’t know how to say it any differently. There is nothing between us anymore, and there never will be again.”

A woman rounds the corner—my mother in her silk dress patterned with lavender flowers. She looks between Troy and me, and her eyes narrow at the sight of Troy’s hand on my shoulder. “Your sister is waiting for you, Evelyn. She needs your help.”

“I was on my way,” I tell her.

“We will see you soon,” she says to Troy in an even voice that allows no room for argument.

As soon as we’re out of Troy’s earshot, she stops walking and whirls to face me. Her hand digs into my forearm, but I wrench myself away before she can get a good grip. What is it with these people trying to manhandle me?

“What are you doing,” she hisses. “Throwing yourself at your sister’s fiancé? I’m ashamed of you, Evelyn.”

“I wasn’t?—”

“This is her wedding. And what are you wearing? You look like a slut.”

Tears prick my eyes. I wasn’t throwing myself at Troy. And this dress is pretty, and it makes me feel pretty. Or at least, it did a few minutes ago. Now, not so much.

Why does she have to ruin everything that makes me happy?

“Let’s go,” she says, marching down the hall and not waiting to see if I’ll follow.

We make it into Chloe’s suite without further conversation. The mood is somber as we watch Chloe get her hair and make-up done by professionals. I keep looking at her stomach. Pregnant. My sister is going to have Troy’s baby. I feel like I should have some sort of emotional reaction to this news, but other than my initial surprise, nothing.

Someone walks down the hall, blaring a commentary on the Surf Rats game that we can hear through the closed door. I wonder if Lincoln is following it. I want to text them even if they don’t want to be with me. I need closure, but I just need to get through this stupid wedding before I bring on more drama.

I miss them so damn much.

Mom watches me carefully, like she thinks I’m out to sabotage this wedding. Quite the contrary. The sooner it happens, the sooner I can leave this ticking drama bomb behind.

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