Page 120 of Blindly Yours

“Got it.” I pad behind him with a nod.

He catches my gaze one last time as he slides out the door. “Oh, and don’t let Mom tell you who to marry. Even if it doesn’t end up being Nate.” He shakes his head. “Mom got lucky with Dad, but she honestly doesn’t know a thing about matchmaking.”

“Don’t tellherthat.” I smile just slightly.

“Night.” He grins and shuts the door.

***

The Berkshire is as overly grandiose as I remember it to be. Large crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling in almost every room of the Old English-style resort, and the marble floors in the ballroom where the wedding reception is being held sharply reflect the twinkling lights strung up for the event. Henry and I used to run circles around this room as kids, grasping chocolate fudge pops we stole from the freezer in the basement while George tutted at us. I miss those days.

I weave between guests who all wear varying neutral shades because the bride required no bright colors in the invitation. I personally think it’s incredibly pretentious to tell your guests what to wear, but I suppose if she’s paying for our dinners and our wine, I shouldn’t complain. I pulled a forgotten fitted black gown from the back of my closet for tonight. I was going to pick up a new dress yesterday, but the motivation left me the moment Nate did.

I wish I could say the ceremony was also as simple as the attire, but the fact that we were all given jars of monarch butterflies to release as the bride and groom exited should say otherwise.

When I reach my assigned table all the way at the back of the ballroom, I find my name card and drop my purse onto my chair. I see my parents’ and brothers’ cards to my left, and to my right, Nate’s.

He hasn’t called or texted. It’s been radio silence. And to be honest, it hurts. Even though I promised myself I’d give him the weekend like he asked, a small part of me wished he’d change his mind and call me anyway.

“Best not to think about him, dear.” My mother pats my shoulder as she folds Nate’s card down so his name is no longer visible. “Plenty of other men here who would have put your special evening before their own plans.”

I didn’t tell her what happened—just that Nate had to back out of the trip at the last minute. But I think she was secretly thrilled to hear it. She’s already poised to pair me up with someone else. At least Malcolm isn’t here.

“I was just speaking with Mrs. Coates over there.” She points across the room as she takes her seat. “Her son, Archer, just earned his PhD in Optometry last week. And my, does he have beautiful eyes to go with his career. The clearest blue. I gave her your number to pass along.”

“Mom,” I cross my arms. “Quit giving my number out. I’m not single anymore.”

She fusses with her napkin. “Yes, but these things don’t always last, dear.”

“Yeah, you’d like it to end, wouldn’t you?”I mumble just loud enough for her to hear.

She gives me a disapproving look. “I just don’t want you to settle.”

She has no idea how far off she is. I start to walk away because I don’t want to hear any of this, but Henry appears in front of me with a glass of wine.

“They have the Cabernet Frac.” He hands it to me. “Figured I didn’t even have to ask.”

“Thank you,” I sigh, taking a sip of my favorite wine. It coats my throat in a warmth that promises to make me forget how irritating my mother is.

“Ella’s looking at you, Henry.” My mother juts her head toward the other end of the room.

“No, she’s not,” he replies, clipped.

I turn to look, and no, the small blonde my mother has been trying to set him up with since childhood is indeednotlooking at him.

She clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “Time is ticking…”

Ignoring her, Henry glances at the empty chair beside mine. “George said you and Nate had a falling out?”

My mother sits up in her seat. “You had a fight?”

I squeeze my eyes shut and rub my hand across my forehead. The wine isn’t strong enough for this. “We didn’t have a fight. Just a misunderstanding.”

“Is that why he canceled?” she asks.

I shoot a death glare at Henry, who shrinks back in apology. “We’re working through it, Mom. It’s fine.”

Henry shuffles uncomfortably, then he darts his eyes between the door to the hall and me. “Want to see if they still have that freezer full of ice cream in the basement?”

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