Page 37 of I Choose You
But what did it mean? Was it something he wanted to do again? Did I want him to do that again? Confused sigh.
My mother repeatedly making snide remarks about my choices, my life. Angry sigh.
Me blowing up at her during a very important and press-covered dinner. Embarrassed sigh.
I slowly got out of bed to wash my face, brush my teeth, and change into something respectable, making sure not to wake Reid. I sat in the corner of the room furthest from the door and closed my eyes. Starting with breathing techniques, I let my emotions wash over me. I took the time to feel each one, understand it, come to terms with it, and let it go. My palms were facing up, seeking guidance and understanding. I searched my mind for my happy place, surprised to find my usual escape to St. Lucia was no longer where my mind wandered to. A dusty room, the sounds of construction all around me, light filtering in through old, dirty windows, was where I found myself. The bedroom faded away, and I sat in that room, soaking up the lingering smell of books and the prominent scent of sawdust. Shawn’s easy smile and red cheeks, Richie’s gruff exterior that didn’t last past his first cup of coffee, Dale’s steadiness and gentlemanly manner, and Reid. Reid’s narrowed eyes when Shawn said something flirty to me. Reid’s subtle smile when he walked past my door and our eyes met.
My eyes blinked open as I slowly pulled myself back to thepresent, back to reality. I felt better, for the most part. The embarrassment of my outburst yesterday was still strong, but nothing I couldn’t handle.
My gaze lifted to find Reid sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me. His face was expressionless, but the tent in his boxer briefs was shouting for attention. I thought I had done an admirable job yesterday of pretending I didn’t notice his erection through the ill-fitting borrowed pants he wore, but this morning’s wood was harder to pull my eyes away from.
“Stop looking at it, Claire. He already wants you to say hi. You don’t need to encourage it.”
My cheeks flushed, and I let out an awkward, breathy laugh.
“Good morning,” I said brightly. “Did you sleep well?”
“Best sleep I’ve had in ages. This bed is made from a cloud.” Reid threw himself back on the bed, arms wide, boner sticking straight up.
I couldn’t help but laugh, covering my face with my hands.
“Well, I’ll leave you to your morning routine,” I told him, walking across the room to the door. “Take as long as you need.”
He let out a loud, quick guffaw. I left him lying on the bed, making my way downstairs to the dining room. My father was seated at the head of the table, a half-eaten plate of egg whites and turkey bacon in front of him.
“Morning, Dad,” I said cautiously.
“Claire.”
He didn’t bother looking up from his phone, replying to some email or other, even though it was 8:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning. I had been prepared for some sort of fallout from last night, a lecture about how much of a disappointment I was to him, to his image.
I should have known better. My family wasn’t the type to discuss real emotions or feelings. It was either a lecture, the silent treatment, or pretending it never happened. Looked like today was option three.
I thanked Rosina when she placed a plate in front of me, smaller portions of the same breakfast as my father. Rosina had come on as the DeLuca family’s personal chef within the last ten years. Before Rosina, we’d had a series of other personal chefs, but none of them stayed for more than a year or two. And before that, we used to have to cook our own breakfast, make our own plate of food. My mind went back in time, remembering how we used to be when I was younger. I could never claim to have grown up in a sitcom-worthy house, but it wasn’t always as cold as it was now. At least not the way I remembered it.
My father was a prominent lawyer, along with being a politician, but it was my mother who came from money. Her father had started the firm that my father worked at. He married the boss’s daughter and became partner in the same year, coincidentally.
When my grandfather passed unexpectedly, everything changed. My father became solely responsible for the success of the firm just as his political career was rising. He threw himself into work as my mother threw herself into the status she’d always wanted. The inheritance gave us this massive house, staff to take care of our needs, and more luxury items than we could ever need. But it took away our home.
Speaking of cold, the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees as my mother entered. Right on her heels, Reid walked in. He gave each of my parents a hard glare, not saying a word to either of them.
“Where can I get one of those?” he asked, nodding at my plate of food. Just then, Rosina came in with two plates, placing my mother’s in front of her and coming around the table to serve Reid’s. He took it from her hand before she could put it on the table, his brow furrowed deeply. “Thank you.” He shot another look toward my mother, probably noting the absence of her appreciation.
My mother had the decorum of Ms. Manners herself—when she was in public. In her own house, she was often dismissive of the hired help. Another thing that wasn’t always that way. Even my father would still say thank you or at least nod or acknowledge them. The best that could be said of my mother was that she wasn’t overtly cruel to them. That was reserved for her daughter.
“Good morning, Mom. I meant to ask, were you able to get the espresso machine on Neil and Madison’s registry?”
“Yes, darling. I had it gift-wrapped and sent over the other day. It’s a lovely machine. I was thinking of getting one for here, but your father wouldn’t hear of it.”
“You don’t drink espresso, Mel. I’m not spending five grand on a fancy counterweight.”
Reid’s eyes bounced between us as he sat silently next to me, scowling the entire time.
Nothing to see here. Everything is fine.
We ate as a family, discussing the day’s upcoming events, my parents relaying any information they gathered yesterday, from who was wining and dining big-name donors to whose children were excelling at college sports. All the while, a simmering current of tension weighed down the air around us as any lingering resentment from last night’s outburst was quietly tucked away so they didn’t need to be discussed.
I left the dining room so I could start getting ready for the wedding. Reid followed me out, a step behind me. It wasn’t like I thought he was going to sit at the table with my parents. Playing nice wasn’t exactly in Reid’s wheelhouse. But having him at my back, letting me lead without a second thought, made me feel weirdly giddy inside.
