“I don’t, but we’re posing as an engaged couple.”
“I know you tell yourself you hate me, but you don’t.”
Cat doesn’t refute my statement, so I add, “If we’re going to pretend anything, it’s that we’re not falling for each other.” Leave it to a guy like me to speak plainly.
I gauge her response and glimpse the tips of a smile at the corners of her mouth as she turns to the window, because if anything, we’re both falling. Hard and fast.
We pull up to the recreation center and follow the balloons around to the back. A pile of broken chairs sits in a heap and a rusty wagon bars part of the cracked sidewalk.
“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Cat asks.
“Do yourself a favor and lower your expectations. This is Cain we’re talking about.”
“Surely his wife-to-be has a say in the ceremony and reception.”
“Again, this is Cain we’re talking about.”
Cateline grimaces.
We take our seats and the bridal march comes out of a pair of tinny speakers. If I didn’t know better, Lizabeth is being held at gunpoint as she walks down the aisle. The ceremony is short as they make their vows. But at the end, my brother and his bride smile and kiss. Cheering along with the rest of the guests, for the first time in my life, I don’t see pure evil in my brother’seyes when he looks at his wife. Instead, I see light. Surprising. Strange.
There’s a buffet with good BBQ—apparently, Lizabeth’s father owns a smokehouse. Now, I see the lure for my brother.
Before we dig in, I call for a toast to the bride and groom.
I’ve fantasized in my mind about a moment of reckoning with Cain a million times. I’d tell him how much he hurt me. How brutal he’d been. How I hate him. Maybe it would come to blows. That might even feel good—to have it out.
Instead, I take the high road.
I make the toast short and as sweet as shoofly pie, wishing them both well and not saying anything that’ll rile up Cain.
If things were different between us, I’d joke, maybe play a slideshow, and a prank or two. But the best I can do is tell them that I hope they have a long and happy marriage.
Everyone claps and cheers.
Cain nods at me when I sit down and I have the fleeting thought that perhaps, after this, he’ll settle down and everything between us will be water under the bridge.
After the meal, the new couple has their first dance before everyone joins them on the makeshift floor. Streamers hang above and the tinny speakers play an upbeat pop song that everyone knows the words to.
To my shock, including Cat.
She pumps her arms like a chicken and moves from side to side like she’s done this dance before. I can’t help but smirk, which turns into a genuine smile before she pulls me alongside her and shows me the moves.
When the song changes, we slow dance like we did last night. When it shifts again, we follow suit, moving with the beat. We smile and laugh. The rest of the room fades and it’s just us. This could be our special day.
When we stop to get something to drink, Cateline whispers, “You are a terrible date.”
I balk. “How so?”
Her smile is secretive.
I counter, “You are a terrible liar. On the contrary, you think I’m the perfect date.”
“No. Definitely not.” She looks away as if to hide her grin.
“Okay, describe your perfect man.”
“Why? Are you doing a survey? Writing an article? Want to learn how to behave? In case it slipped your mind, as the headmistress at Blancbourg, I’m an expert at helping people become the perfect gentlemen.”
