Page 69 of Mine to Promise
“And then your fiancé sent you a love letter meant for someone else,” Shelby cuts in, making me gasp again because that happened to her. I don’t have time to answer her before the door opens, and Clarabella and Presley walk in, almost bumping into the two women.
“What is this?” Clarabella asks them, then looks at me.
“Did someone die?” She puts her hands to her chest.
“Do you think if someone died, they would be just standing around?” Presley laughs at her and then looks at me. “Oh my God, are you pregnant?”
“What?” I squeak. “No.” I shake my head. “We’ve had this discussion every single day since San Francisco. I’m on birth control.”
“I’m here to tell you that nothing is one hundred percent safe unless you suffer abstinence.” Presley raises her eyebrows as she talks. “Which, from the stories we got, you are not.”
“Good God,” I mumble, “what makes you think anything is wrong?”
“You don’t have the ray of sunshine you usually do,” Shelby answers.
“You smile and stuff, but the past two days you’ve been,” Sofia says, “sad.”
“I have not,” I defend, shocked, “I’m fine.”
“No, you are not,” Clarabella says. “It’s okay to miss your man.”
“I don’t miss my man,” I lie. “He’s not even my man.” Sofia just snorts at that one.
“When Ace went away after he and Shelby got together,” Presley says, looking at her sister who just glares at her. “She came to work with a Cheeto in her hair.”
“I did not,” Shelby retorts. “Was I out of it? Yes.” She folds her hands over her chest. “Did I miss him? Yes. Was I a mess?”
“Also yes,” Clarabella answers for her, earning her a death glare. “You showed up for an appointment with two different shoes!” she reminds her, and I quickly look down to see I have the same shoes on.
“It looked like the same shoe.” Shelby stomps toward her office. “One was black.”
“And one was navy blue.” Presley rolls her lips. “We told the couple she was color-blind.”
Shelby gasps. “Is that why the groom kept telling me what the colors were of the flowers in front of me?” she asks. “He would even say, ‘that is a nice blue shirt you have on,’” she mimics the man, and for the first time in four days, I laugh.
“After hearing this”—I motion with my hand in a circle—“I think I’ll be okay.”
“Color-blind?” Shelby ignores what I just said. “Incredible.”
“What were we supposed to say?” Clarabella asks us. “You were a mess.”
“I was not!” Shelby shouts to them.
“You showed up with your hair unbrushed and thought you had the amazing beach waves. The back of your head was a rat’s nest,” Presley shares.
“I’m not talking to you two,” Shelby pouts, turning around and looking at me. “I wasn’t that bad.”
“I believe you,” I pacify her, nodding my head, and she flips me off, and again, I can’t help but laugh.
I’m about to answer her when the phone rings. I answer it, and the three of them go to their offices. No one comes back out to talk to me and I have a bride and groom who come in the afternoon to discuss their upcoming wedding. The three of us sit down and go over every single detail. I fly out of the office a little past four o’clock, and I’m only a couple of minutes late picking up Avery.
She talks the whole way home, reminding me about her memories from San Francisco. It feels like I have a whole weight of the world on my shoulders. I grab her hand and start walking to the front door when I hear Avery shriek beside me. “Dad!” she yells, letting my hand go and running to Stefano, who squats down enough to catch her.
“There she is,” he says, grabbing her under her armpits and pulling her toward him. “I missed you,” he tells her, then looks up at me.
I smile at him, trying to fight the lump in my throat. My feet make it to them. “Hi,” I greet him awkwardly, holding my hand up.
“Hi,” he replies softly, twisting his body to lean down and kiss my cheek.