Page 24 of How to Break My Heart
She shakes her head. “That’s it for now.”
Given that the lunch is not formal like the wedding, I opt to change into my chinos, a white button-down shirt, and a navy wool coat. The weather is much colder here than in Manhattan, but at least it’s not snowing.
I step inside my old room, and everything is exactly how I remember it. All my trophies are still showcased on the shelves, reminding me of a time when lacrosse and football were my life. I lived and breathed the sports, dreaming of playing for the national leagues one day.
But, life had other plans.
Even my bedding looks exactly the same, with the checkered navy-and-white bedspread and pillows perfectly positioned. Much smaller than the king-size bed in my penthouse.
My desk still has all my books stacked on it, with my senior class photograph pinned to the wall. The nostalgia leaves an unsettling feeling, so I don’t linger too long. I change and head straight to the lodge.
On this crisp winter day, the sun manages to shine, melting any residual snow.
As I stand inside the restaurant’s patio area beside an outdoor heater, Madelina is quick to corner me.
“Be on your best behavior, okay?”
“I’m always on my best behavior,” I retort.
“I could list the times when you’ve lost your temper and argued over politics. I want both our families to enjoy the day. Be nice.”
With a glass of champagne in my hand—the server practically forced it upon me as Madelina eyed me from across the room—I introduce myself like the perfect older brother. I despisechampagne, but any liquor at this point is needed. My father insists on joining me, which I soon learn is to fabricate a story about Mom. According to Madelina, Mom is on a flight back from Geneva at Father’s command. Whatever happened, I’m sure my father was a prick, and Mom had no choice but to follow his orders.
“So, I guess we’re going to be family now.” Myles appears beside me, dressed in a navy suit with what appears to be whiskey in his glass. I scan the room to hunt down the server and request my beverage be switched immediately. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do at this thing.”
“You grin and bear it. According to my father, it’s proper etiquette to introduce two families upon the event of the marriage. You really had to propose to my sister, huh?” I tease, then rest my hand on his shoulder. “I hope you know what you’re getting into.”
“Let’s see. Your father has made it clear that grandchildren are a must. Not that my mother argued—quite the opposite. And I said, ‘How about we get through all the formalities first before kids are discussed?’?”
Myles drinks the whiskey in one gulp, then motions for the server. I don’t blame him—family events with overbearing parents can be brutal.
“I’m surprised you proposed so quickly,” I say, curious.
“Granddad is sick and it’s his dying wish to see me get married.” The previously upbeat tone of his voice shifts, but I pretend not to notice. “I love Madelina. We have a lot of fun at work.”
I nod, unsure how to respond, then his mother pulls him away to discuss some important matter. The room begins to fill with other family members. I thought this was supposed to be a small, intimate event until I see some friends of my father walk through the door.
Myles forces a smile as my father introduces him to a new round of strangers. I can’t fault the guy and don’t expect him to hurt my sister despite this proposal happening early in their relationship. His intentions appear legitimate.
His cousins, however, have tried to corner me several times. It didn’t take me long to figure out Madelina told them I was single. Sure, one is hot, but it would be a quick fuck and nothing else. Blond bob, white pantsuit, and frankly, uninteresting.
Something warns me not to mix wedding events with pleasure.
Ramona—as she introduced herself—is rambling on about her fashion company like I give a shit. I nod politely but scan the room, looking for an exit.
As my eyes wander near the door, a woman walks through alone. I pause to observe her with curiosity. Her long, lean legs in black knee-high boots capture my attention, but soon, my eyes wander up her body to admire the rest of her. I tilt my head with a smirk, and then it dawns on me that she looks familiar.
Everleigh.
Her hair isn’t long like back in high school—cut shorter, sitting at her shoulders in loose waves, but still the shade of brown with auburn tints when it caught the sunlight. But it isn’t her hair that draws me to her. It’s the face of a mature woman. Something about her stirs this unwanted emotion inside of me.
I quickly drop my gaze to the floor to curb these unnatural thoughts but find I’m unable to control myself, lifting my stare back to where she’s standing.
The burgundy dress she wears ends mid-thigh. I’m swift to notice her tits sitting nicely in the dress and curves in all the right places.
She isnothinglike I remember.
Everleigh Woods is a woman now.
