Page 91 of Pucking the Enemy

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“I need to use the bathroom,” I whispered to my mother. The last thing I wanted to do was cause a scene. I knew all too well that would infuriate my mother. She had a habit of being completely insufferable when she didn’t get her way. If I could slip away without making a scene, then she was less likely to go nuclear on me.

Given the severity of the situation, though, I wasn’t opposed to making a scene, if need be.

“You can’t just walk off. This is your engagement party.” Her tone was harsh, but she had a smile plastered on her face, so from the outside, it looked like we were having a serene and happy conversation. A loving mother talking and smiling with her daughter at her engagement party.

What a load of crap.

I knew my parents weren’t the best of people. They were judgmental and selfish, and I accepted that, but I never believed they would stoop so low as to throw an engagement party for me without me even being aware that I was engaged.

“I can go pull myself together, or I’ll start screaming right here in front of your friends. What would you rather I do?” I snarled back.

She gave me a harsh, withering glare and jerked her head toward the door, essentially giving me permission to go.

Darting out of the room, I made a beeline for the downstairs bathroom, slamming the door as I entered, turning so my back was pressed against the door.

What. The. Fuck.

This was a new low.

My parents were throwing an engagement party for me when I was already dating four other guys and was pregnant. Granted, they didn’t know I was pregnant, or that I was dating the guys, but if they did know that little titbit of information, they probably would have locked me in the basement, so not telling them was for my own safety.

Pulling my phone out of my clutch, I quickly messaged the group chat.

Hazel:

Someone save me. It’s an engagement party.

Cormac:

Who’s getting engaged?

Hazel:

ME! APPARENTLY I’M ENGAGED?

Cormac:

What?!