Page 30 of Meant For Love

My mother rolls her eyes. “I mean only girl. You are my only girl, and I’ve waited for this day my whole life. To get to go with you and argue over dresses.” Her voice cracks. “And then I’ll just let you choose whatever you want because it’ll be perfect no matter what.” She blinks.

I’m about to hug her when my cousin Zara mumbles, “Incoming.”

We all look over to see my Uncle Max and Uncle Matthew walking my way with my father beside them. All of them are wearing swim trunks and a button-down linen shirt. “They look like that Michael Douglas movie with all his old friends that go to Vegas for their last hoorah,” Zara whispers to me, “but then they probably think they are on the runway for GQ.”

“You”—my aunt looks at her—“don’t you say a word.”

“I’m drinking and enjoying myself. Jesus, Mom,” she retorts, taking the straw in her hand.

“Just say sorry and maybe shed a tear. That might help,” Allison suggests. “Definitely cry. It works every single time.”

“Not every time,” my mother states. “When we put Nair in Matthew’s shampoo, he was not having us crying.” She stands up straight and walks in front of me. “Let me handle this.”

“There she is,” my father says, making his way in front of the other two. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“That sounds creepy AF,” Zara mumbles, and my aunt nudges her.

“Okay.” My mother holds up her hand. “She just got here.” She looks at Max and Matthew. “So you’ll have to save the interrogation for another time. Like, maybe when they leave.”

“I don’t think I can say anything,” Max admits, holding up his hand. “I eloped with Allison, so I was just coming to congratulate my niece.”

“You mean, stole my sister.” Matthew glares at him.

“It’s been over thirty years,” Max says. “It’s safe to say it was a good idea.”

“Thank you for your congratulations.” I walk up to my Uncle Max and give him a hug, and he kisses my head. “I’m sure we will have to have a meeting and a huddle.” I walk over to Matthew. “I’ll even promise not to interrupt you.” I smile up at him, and he shakes his head.

“He got a hug, and I got nothing.” He grabs me and brings me in. “I blame your father anyway,” he says before kissing my forehead.

“Don’t care,” my father counters. “Leave my daughter alone.” I walk to him and hug his waist. “Go unpack and meet us on the beach. Your grandfather is looking for you.”

“Did you guys tell him?” I gasp and look at everyone. Matthew looks up at the sky as if he’s looking for a clue.

“Traitor.”

“He has Instagram,” Matthew finally says. “Maybe if you wanted to keep it a secret, one should not post on social media.”

“I’m going to change. Where is my room?” I ask them, knowing my Uncle Matthew has everyone’s room number ready to rattle off by heart.

“Seventeen thirty.” My father grabs my key card from his pocket. “I wanted to make sure you saw me as soon as you got here.” He points over to the side where the rooms are. “Just walk through there. Every person has a bungalow over the water.”

“As if I could hide anywhere.” I hold out my hands. “We’re the only ones at this resort.”

I grab the key card from him. “I’ll meet everyone at the beach,” I say, turning and making my way away from them before they realize they let me off the hook faster than they should have. I was expecting a little bit more pushback. “Wow.” I look over my shoulder. “They are slipping in their old age.” I make my way over to my room, wondering where in the hell Nash ended up. Walking on top of the wooden pathway that leads to all the bungalows, I spot ours at the very end. Scanning my card before stepping in, I gasp. If my luggage wasn’t in the middle of the room, I would think this was a mistake.

The room is filled with white roses like in the hotel suite where we were married. Every single surface area in the little living room is covered in roses. I walk toward the back of the room, seeing the king-size bed facing a wall of windows that gives you a view of the turquoise water. A hot tub is on the side, with two white lounge chairs right in front of a ladder that leads down to the water. A white square box with my name on it sits in the middle of the bed.

I pull the card out and read the note.

Happy honeymoon, wife.

Love,

Your husband

I shake my head, sitting on the bed to open the box to find a white satin button-down top with matching shorts. It feels like heaven on my hand, and I see it’s embroidered on the left-hand side with my name, Zoey Griffin. “This is ridiculous.” I ignore the way my stomach feels when I read the name as I shake my head, putting the top down when I hear the door slam. “Hello!” I shout out.

I watch Nash walk into the room, and his hair looks like he’s been running his hands through it a million times. “I was looking for you.” He comes over to me, bending and kissing my lips. He walks over to stare out the window before he opens the sliding door all the way. “I just had a head-to-head with your brother,” he says, shocking me.