Page 53 of Cruel King

“Exactly,” I said, though some of my bravado evaporated at the way he’d said that.

“But couldn’t we tell them after dinner or after they go home? We can pretend for a few more days. Then, just tell them we broke up.”

I shook my head emphatically. “That would work with your family, but not mine. You met my parents. My mom would a hundred percent blame me for ruining my only chance at what she considers happiness. She’d go out of her way to make me try to work it out with you. Even if it was your fault, it would be my fault.”

“How would it be different if we broke up in front of her?”

“Well, she wouldseethat it’s your fault.”

Gavin’s expression was flat. “Would that change her mind? After everything you’ve told me about her, I don’t see a good out for you in all of this.”

I deflated at his words. I was being hysterical. IknewI was being hysterical. My mom always put me on edge like this. I’d done everything I could not to be her little princess and to defy all her expectations. I didn’t want to be the little girl who married the right man for her praise. And still, the prospect of having her approval was so tantalizing.

But I wasn’t marrying Gavin. I wasn’t sure I wanted to get married at all.

I didn’t see a way for this to work out in my favor. Again, the same old, same old with my family. I was going to be the disappointment once more. Well, what else was new?

“You’re right. We can tell them after they go home. I’ll … I’ll give you the ring back then.”

His face was perfectly blank at those words. “Are we still going to talk about all of this after that’s done?”

I bit my lip and nodded. “I promise.”

16

WHITLEY

“Ready for this?” Gavin asked.

We were seated in the back of his black car, heading toward our dinner reservations. I’d come home from an anxiety-ridden day of playing catch-up to throw on a midnight-blue dress and head out again. I’d considered wearing something outrageous to get a reaction from my mom. Show the rebel I’d always been, but I’d given up on that. I just wanted them to go home. Back to Texas, where they belonged, and not in my beloved New York.

I shrugged and chewed on my bottom lip. Gavin reached across the car and took my hand. I jerked my head back to him as he threaded our fingers together.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re nervous.”

“Well … yeah. Pretending for your parents was easy. They wanted to see you happy. They didn’t know who I was.”

“Your parents want you to be happy,” he said, drawing calming circles on the top of my hand.

I scoffed. “They want me to be happy in the waytheywant me to be happy.”

“Do you really care what they think? We could walk in there and tell them the truth.”

I trembled at that suggestion. It would be the easiest route, of course. Much easier than telling them later that it hadn’t worked out. But it wasn’t the right thing to do either. They wouldn’t understand. It might actually beworsethan breaking off a relationship they deemed fitting. This was making a mockery of the thing they wanted.

Slowly, I shook my head. “I can’t do that either.”

He nodded approvingly. “A few more days then? It shouldn’t be too bad.”

No. No, it wasn’t bad at all. Being Gavin’s fiancée was … better than I’d imagined it would be. In the moments when I let myself consider it at all, I found the whole thing as easy as breathing. I didn’t know what that meant.

I liked Gavin. I’d liked him for a long time. But I wasn’tgirlfriendmaterial. Not really. And he’d see that too one day, if he hadn’t already.

The car stopped in front of the restaurant, and Gavin stepped out first, offering me his hand. I took it and set my heels down on the wet sidewalk. It had been raining on and off since we’d gotten home. It felt like an ominous portent.

Gavin was greeted by the maître d’ as soon as we entered the restaurant. My parents were already standing nearby. Their expressions of discomfort disappeared at Gavin’s presence and his clear command. My mom looked overly pleased with herself as we bypassed a long line of people and were immediately seated.

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