Page 103 of The One I Love
And I don’t. Because I’m over it. I’m over tasting different kinds of chicken. I’m over Simon’s smartass comments. And I’m over pretending to plan a wedding Amelia doesn’t want but I do.
“Okay, I need to ask, what the fuck is up with you?”
I look at Simon to see if he’s asking this in a genuine way or a smartass way. It’s usually smartass, which means I can give my normal minimum word answer and we can sit here in silence and wait for the food.
But when I do, the cocky look isn’t there. Gone is the playboy of a minute ago who was trying to pick up a woman hejust met. This is the Simon only a few know. And this Simon is the reason why he’s one of my best friends.
“Last week, after the insanity at Mona’s, Amelia and I tried to sit down and figure out what we were going to do about the engagement. I suggested we go through with it.”
Simon’s eyes double in size. “You asked her to marry you?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I say. “She says we’re not ready.”
“One, it does matter. Two, if that’s what she says, then that’s what goes.”
“Apparently this is how it works.” My comment comes out sarcastic and bitter. I know it does. And I don’t care that it did.
“Whoa!” Simon says. “That was a fucking dick thing to say.”
“Why?” I ask. I know my anger is bubbling up right now, but I can’t help it.
“Why did you say it like that? If she doesn’t want to marry you, then she doesn’t. Hard line, my friend. Hard line.”
I feel my blood starting to heat. I do my best to push it down, but I don’t think it’s doing much good. “I’m just a little tired of giving her everything, and the one time I ask her for something she turns me down. And she wouldn’t even consider it. It would solve everything, and she dismissed it.”
Simon gives me a look like I’m an idiot. And I probably am. But I’m mad. And the more this goes on, the angrier I get.
“Listen, I know you love her. I know she’s been your dream girl for apparently our entire lives. And you want to make her happy. Which is great. Everyone wants Amelia to be happy. We also want you to be happy. But this isn’t bringing her coffee or conceding on where you’re going for dinner. This is marriage. That’s a big fucking ask. Something, might I remind you, she’s done before—and it didn’t end well.”
“Are you comparing me to that asshat?”
“No, I’m not, Hulk. Calm down. I’m just saying you mightthink marriage is an easy solution, but for Amelia, it probably isn’t. She probably doesn’t associate that word with anything happy. So maybe cut her some slack.”
He’s right. I hate it when he’s right.
I should know this. And her happiness means everything to me.
But I thought mine did too.
“I just want her to consider it,” I say. “She wouldn’t even do that.”
“Maybe because you guys just got together. Or maybe because it’s been a whirlwind since you have. Or maybe because she doesn’t want to marry your grumpy ass.”
“It’s not that,” I say. At least, I hope it’s not that. No. It’s not. I remember back to our night on the bike in Florida. Picturing our wedding. The beach. Our family. Our friends. She wants it. I know she does, so why not now? Why would she say all of that if she didn’t want it?
And on top of that, why am I here? Why is she at the florist? Why are we still entertaining and placating our mothers? Because it’s one thing to let them believe we’re engaged, it’s another to actively plan a wedding.
“I bet it is.” Simon stands up and flashes his phone to me. “It’s Emmett. I have to take this. If the food comes out, don’t you dare start without me. And if there’s piccata, just send it back.”
I wave him away, which is returned with a middle finger of his own. Just as he walks out of the tasting room, I see a woman carrying a tray of food over my way.
“You must be Shane. Hi. I’m Charlie. I’m one of the sous chefs here, and if you pick us, I’d be the one cooking the food for your wedding.”
“Nice to meet you.” I plaster on a smile. I don’t know what she knows, but I’m guessing she thinks this is a regular tasting,just like the last two. Granted, the first was with Mona, because she insisted she could cater the wedding with breakfast foods.
“Just you today?” Charlie asks. “Whitley wasn’t sure if it was going to be you or your fiancée as well.”
“My fiancée is meeting with the florist today. You know Whitley?”
