I took her bag for her, and said, “We’re upstairs. I’m right behind you.”
I didn’t have to tell her twice. At the speed she went, I’m sure she was tempted to take it two stairs at a time.
I directed her toward my old room. She breezed through the door, and didn’t stop until she had thrown herself facedown on the bed with a groan.
“I’m never going back out there. I’ll climb out the window.”
I parked our luggage just inside the room, and then shut the door behind me. I took a seat beside her and laid a hand on her back. “Look on the bright side, we’ve got some alone time after all.”
She rolled over, putting herself farther away from me.
“Sorry, but I’m not exactly in the mood anymore.”
I winced.
“Bliss, I—”
She pushed herself up and off the bed and began pacing. “Why couldn’t you just tell me that she was going to hate me? Why tell me again and again that I was worrying over nothing when I clearly wasn’t?”
“I didn’t want you to worry. I thought things would go smoother if you were calm.”
“Have you met me? Smooth is not an option I come with. If you’re looking for smooth, maybe you should look elsewhere.”
Mid-pace, I caught her by the elbows and made her face me.
“Don’t do that. Don’t push me away.”
She covered her hands with her hands and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just . . . I didn’t expect it to be like this.”
“What does that mean?”
She shook her head, and dropped her hands to look up at the ceiling instead. “Nothing. It’s . . . nothing.”
She pulled away and went to her suitcase. She went to put it up on the bed, took a long look at the white bedding, and then laid it on the floor.
“Bliss, talk to me.”
“Do you think this is okay? It’s the best I have.” She stood, pulling a simple blue cotton dress from her bag.
“Bliss, you can wear whatever you want down there. I only said we were going to change to give us a break.”
“Right. Maybe I can find some decent jewelry. Just give me a couple minutes.” She took the dress and a few other items, and disappeared into the bathroom. The door closed behind her with a click, and it was my turn to throw myself back on my bed.
I stared up at the ceiling and cursed under my breath.
Maybe my fears were warranted after all.
6
Bliss
THIS WAS A joke. A massively unfunny joke.
I’d fixed my hair, retouched my makeup, donned my best outfit, thrown on my best jewelry, and I was fairly certain that their toilet bowl scrubber still cost more than my entire outfit.
Why hadn’t he told me?
I got that he didn’t talk about his family much. They clearly weren’t close. God knows I didn’t talk about mine much, either, except to complain. But you’d think he could have just taken half a second to drop a quick “By the way, my family is loaded” into conversation.
If I was worried that Mrs. Taylor might think I wasn’t good enough for her son before, it was pretty much a solidified fact now.
I didn’t fit here. At all. Not even almost. One of these things is really not like the others.
And to make matters worse, Garrick looked perfect when I exited the bathroom. He’d donned a button-up shirt and tie to go with his khaki pants, and he looked effortless. Unlike me, he fit.
And a small, niggling voice in my mind asked how it was possible then that we fitted together? I shook my head to clear my thoughts, and Garrick crossed the room to place a kiss on my forehead.
“You look lovely.”
I smiled, but I didn’t feel it. “Thanks. So do you.”
“Everything is going to be fine.”
He’d said that so many times that it didn’t mean anything anymore. Like when you say a word too much and it stops sounding like itself and feels alien and foreign in your head.
“Let’s go then,” I said.
His hands cupped my jaw, and he leaned in for a kiss. I tilted my head back away from him.
“You’ll get lipstick on you.”
“I don’t care, love. The only thing I care about right now in this entire house is you.”
My resolve melted, and he brushed a feather-light kiss across my lips, somehow coming out lipstick-free. He laced our fingers together and planted another kiss on the back of my hand.
I wanted the gesture to be comforting, but it only made me more unsettled. It only made me wonder more what he could possibly see in me.
Together, we descended the stairs back into the jungle of champagne flutes and designer handbags and outfits that put mine to shame. It was a forest of self-esteem issues waiting to happen, and I was smack-dab in the middle of it.
We’d barely made it two feet past the base of the stairs before we were intercepted by a group of people.
“Garrick! So good to see you!”
He let go of my hand to greet a guy about Garrick’s age. He had dark hair, combed perfectly, and wore a suit. Again, I say, in what world is a suit casual?
“John, it’s good to see you, too. This is my fiancée, Bliss.”
John turned to the side and a woman stepped up beside him. She, too, had dark hair, fixed into a perfect bun at the nape of her neck. I concentrated on not touching my out-of-control curls in response.
“Lovely to meet you, Bliss. This is my wife, Amy.”