“I’m ninety-eight, not dead, dear,” she says with a grin, exposing bright-white false teeth. Her voice is thin but fierce, the kind I imagine a retired army major having. “As long as I can get out of bed on my own, I will be living under my own roof.”
“I’m sorry,” I stumble. “I didn’t mean…”
The other five family members’ eyes focus on me. I swear, each one is laughing under their breath at my discomfort. “I’m sorry,” I mumble again. No doubt my skin matches the color of my dress.
“So, dear,” she says, her piercing eyes fixed on me. “How did you meet my nephew? Ivan never brings a girl home. You’ve certainly made an impression.”
She gestures to my dress with her hand. I feel extremely self-conscious about being completely overdressed for the occasion.
Ivan collected me wearing a dark pair of jeans and a simple black cashmere sweater. He looked utterly fuckable. I’d been wrapped in my heavy winter coat, so he hadn’t seen my dress until we arrived.
Upon walking into the house, we’d been met by his two aunts, their husbands, Aunt Meryl, and his cousin Cheryl. Meryl andCheryl, who does that to their children? They sound like a comedy duo.
As I took in their attire, my stomach fell to my toes. Each one was wearing a Christmas jumper with standard jeans. They looked as if they were going to a Christmas fair rather than a festive meal.
We had all stood in the hall awkwardly after our stifled introductions. Ivan signaled to me for my coat, and I unzipped it slowly, exposing my pillar-box red dress. He flashed me a sexy smile before reconfiguring his face back to neutral.
We were all herded into the living room by one of the women, and I deposited myself on the sofa. I hadn’t moved since, attempting to fade into the eclectic fabric.
“We met through work,” I tell her.
“You work for him?” she asks, her lips pursed in displeasure. Obviously, she doesn’t approve of sleeping with the help.
“No, I used to have my own gym.” The familiar strain in my chest appears as it does every time I think ofBex’s New You.I still feel like an utter failure for losing my business. Sensing my unease, Ivan’s hand finds mine, his fingers curling around my palm. “We met through mutual friends.”
She nods, appeased for the moment, then fires again. “How long have you been courting?”
I look at her blankly.
“She means dating,” Ivan whispers.
“Courting, dating, it’s the same thing,” the old woman interjects.
“A few weeks…”
“Months, darling,” Ivan interrupts smoothly. Three months tomorrow.” The word darling lingers like smoke.
He smiles at me then glances toward his uncle, whom we met at the country club earlier in the month. Oh yes, I forgot abouthim?this fake dating ruse is complicated. I’m not even sure if it’s bogus anymore—it doesn’t feel like it.
“Three months,” Aunt Meryl says, clapping her hands together. “From what I’ve heard about you, Ivan, that must be a record.”
He clears his throat, his grip tightening on my hand. “I’m not sure my past relationship track record is an appropriate conversation for Christmas Eve. Especially in front of my girlfriend. Can we move on?”
Girlfriend. My heart beats slightly harder in my chest after hearing the word.
“You’re a bit old to have a girlfriend,” Aunt Meryl says with a snicker. “Surely a man your age has a partner?” Ivan glares at her but doesn’t respond. “Girlfriend,” she repeats, shaking her head. Then the conversation moves on to less embarrassing topics, much to my relief.
Christmas dinner is a feast of turkey with all the trimmings. People take turns reading terrible jokes pulled from party crackers, the evening rounded off with a game of charades.
Ivan is more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him, surrounded by his close family. Every so often, our gazes meet, and my heart skips. Watching him interact with these people is heart-warming. The man always in control, undone by those who love him.
The evening ends as the clock strikes eleven. Aunt Meryl lifts both hands above her head and yawns dramatically.
“Time’s marching on,” she says. “My bed is calling.”
Ivan and I take our cue to leave. He rises from his chair and walks over to her, crouching down beside her as she sits in her armchair. “I’ve had a wonderful time, auntie,” he says. “Thank you for inviting me.”
She lifts a wrinkled hand and strokes her nephew’s face. “You’ve always been a good boy,” she whispers. “I’m so pleasedI’ve seen you find the one before I go.” She glances at me. “Keep her safe and enjoy each other. Life passes in the blink of an eye.”
