Page 17 of Fallen Stars

For the past hour, my father has glanced in my direction from his end of the table with an insistent look in his eye. As I’ve done every time he insists on hosting these asinine dinners, I remain stoic. It pisses him off and, in turn, makes me happy.

Muted conversations happen over the final course. On my left, Abigail is silent. If I had to guess, she is as equally displeased about this bullshit as I am.

Immobile in my seat, I stare at the crème brûlée with pity.What a waste.

“Levi.”

I inhale slowly and shift my gaze to the end of the table. There is no point in responding. Whatever I say will be ignored.

“Since you and Abigail are done eating, why don’t the two of you walk through the gardens and catch up.”

My molars grind as I narrow my eyes at my father. The hint of a smirk curves one corner of his mouth. It pisses me off. I shove back from the table and huff as the wood legs of the chair glide easily across the marble floor.

“Sure.” Then I give everyone my back and walk away.

Goose bumps dance over my skin as I step outside. I pass a tall hedge, tip my head back, close my eyes, and mentally scream at the heavens.

The soft click of the door closing meets my ears and I straighten. Quiet on her feet, Abigail comes to stand beside me. For a moment, we both stand there, unspeaking, staring out at the ornately groomed shrubs and flower bushes.

In my periphery, she crosses her arms over her chest and shivers. Were I trying to court her, I’d offer to get her something to keep her warm. I’d pull her into my side or rub the length of her bare arms.

I offer her nothing. Not even my voice.

“This sucks,” she mutters.

Uncertain what it is she’s referring to, I don’t respond.

“I don’t want this. Do you?”

Now, this catches my attention.

I pivot slightly and glance down at her. Fists clenched under her arms and jaw muscles tight, Abigail Calhoun appears just as irritated by this whole charade as I am.

“Not at all.” I shrug. “No offense.”

She waves off my comment. “None taken.” Peeking over her shoulder toward the house, she gives a curt nod. “My parents don’t know, but I’ve been seeing someone.”

My brows shoot up in surprise.

“Please don’t say anything.”

I relax my expression and give what I hope is a sympathetic smile. “I won’t.”

“Thank you.” Her whole frame sighs. “I’m in love with him.”

“Why don’t they know you’re with him?”

Abigail rolls her eyes. “Anyone in this town with our kind of wealth is trying to find suitable matches for their children.” She looks me dead on. “We may not be a founding family, but we’re as close as they come. Daddy may be laid back at times, but he and Mom still want us to marrygoodpeople.”

“Fucking bullshit,” I mutter. “I’m twenty-five, and you’re, what?”

“Thirty.”

“We’re grown-ass people. Why do they keep shoving us together like cattle?”

“Sometimes I wonder if they actually care aboutme.” Her emphasis on the last word comes out so softly.

I wish I could assure her things will be fine. But I have a feeling this horse and pony show will go on until our families get what they want.

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