“I’m sorry?” I said once I’d recovered.
“You get a plus one to the wedding, right? I assume you aren’t taking anyone else.”
I’d completely forgotten about that. Cass thought I was dating Gray, and I’d be attending the wedding with him. Matthew wanted to be the guest because we were actually dating.
“I didn’t think we were at a point to introduce each other to family,” I said.
“Well, the wedding is in December. That’s still three months away. You don’t think we’ll be ready by then?”
I couldn’t breathe. At every turn, Matt took the lead, guiding our relationship and the pace of it. This time, I tried to learn from my past mistakes. With Ethan, I’d dug my heels in and picked small fights and it’d landed me alone. So, with Matt, I bit my tongue, but even I had my limits.
“Maybe… I’ll have to see. You’d probably get bored. I’ll be running around after the pair of them all week and on the day.”
“I don’t mind, Quentin.”
“We’ll see, Matt.”
It came out as a bite, and he looked taken aback and then shrugged.
“Whatever you say.”
My phone pinged on the table, and I picked it up to see a new email.
“I thought I told you no phones on dates,” he said firmly.
I had a horrible habit of being tied to my phone for emails and work. Typing out emails or receiving them, and Matt became so irritated that he placed a ban. My first instinct was to say ‘fuck you’ but I swallowed that unsavoury response and agreed that I should focus on us when we were together.
My eyes scanned over the email. “I know, but I’ve been waiting… YES!”
I jumped in my seat, thighs bashing against the table and causing the plates and mugs to wobble noisily.
“Quentin!”
I’d learned some things about Matthew since being in a relationship with him. He liked a trophy. When I dressed down, he complained. When I drew attention for what he thought were the wrong reasons, he complained. Most of the time I rolled my eyes and ignored him, not willing to start a fight. Like now. I didn’t care if people stared, but it bothered him.
“Look!” I said, shoving my phone in his face. He took it from me and read the email. “The presentation I submitted. It got accepted for the conference!”
I waited for his congratulations, but it never came.
“Are you sure you’re ready for it?” he asked, handing the phone back over.
“Sorry?”
The pride and joy that had swelled in my chest deflated.
“You’re good, Scott, but it’s a world congress and you’re going to present in front of a lot of people.”
My brow furrowed. “And?”
“And I’m just making sure you’re ready for it. You’re twenty-seven, you’ve got to be one of the youngest —”
“So?” I felt myself getting defensive about it.
“Are you going to be able to stand up to experts in the field?”
I blinked at him a few times; the happiness completely wiped out by his lack of enthusiasm.
My PhD project had been my baby. The number of hours I’d sunk into research, learning new skills so that I could fully understand my work, was unfathomable to most. I was more than capable of presenting my findings and discussing them with my colleagues who were more advanced in the field. Even if I couldn’t answer, it’d be a great learning curve, and I’d get my name out there.
