She gets off me, smoothing out her uniform. “Charming. Let’s go?”
My phone buzzes as she goes to transfer all of her items from her old bag into the new one I got for her, and I can’t help the smirk that forms on my face. She adds the jewelry, and I’m even more proud.
I unlock my phone and raise a brow. It’s an unknown number, but as I open the message, another one comes in, and the blood drains from my face.
THIRTY-FIVE
Momsips on the champagne, her fingers sliding over the page of the magazine, before she flips it over. Soft music is playing on the speakers of the store, and I finally pull the curtains of the dressing room open. Finally, Mom looks up as I step outside, looking at myself in the big mirror.
“Not that one,” she clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “That shade of green washes you out. Try the next one.”
With a sigh, I turn to look at her, tired. “Mom, this is the ninth dress I tried on. Do I really need more dresses?”
“A woman can never have too many elegant dresses,” she closes the magazine, finishing the champagne and setting the glass on the table. “But I need you to look your best.”
“What’s wrong with our seamstress?”
“Nothing is wrong with her. I adore Eden, but I need a new dress for you for tomorrow night.”
“No,” I whine. “Don’t tell me it’s another party?”
I do love all the events my parents drag me to. But betweenbeing caught up with Soren, studying for my exams, and trying to deal with the fallout of Sawyer’s unexpected marriage, I’m drained. I just want to sleep, eat, and repeat.
“A celebration,” Mom says, but she’s avoiding my eyes. “I just need you there.”
My brows narrow in suspicion. “A celebration? Of what kind? All the holidays we celebrate have passed.”
“Well…”
“Oh, God,” realization dawns on me when she looks down. “It’s for Sawyer’s marriage, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Soren was right,” I groan. “We’ll all be celebrating together. Let me guess, this is to make up for the fact that Sawyer and Astrid eloped?”
“Why were you speaking to Soren in the first place?” She asks, her tone accusatory.
“Oh, give it a rest, woman,” I roll my eyes. “Would you rather have me be involved with Soren, or Sawyer with Astrid?”
She pauses. “Touché. But your father won’t feel the same way.”
“What Dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” I shrug, grabbing the other dress. “Besides, I think he’s too busy dealing with Sawyer’s marriage to be dealing with my situationship.”
“I think you’ll love that one,” her eyes fall onto the dress. “If you don’t, I’ll find a white one.”
I burst out laughing. “And risk Astrid pouring wine all over me?”
“That’d prove that she’s not the right fit for Sawyer.”
“Yes, but now that she’s your daughter-in-law, it reflects you, too. Don’t be too rash, I know you don’t like her.”
“It’s not that I dislike her. For God’s sake, she’s young enoughto be my child. What I don’t like is the fact that she’s the reason my children aren’t speaking to one another.”
I sigh, entering the dressing room, and closing the curtain. I strip out of the previous dress, putting the new one on. I zip up the back, then return to the main area.
“As long as you’re on my side, I don’t—” I cut myself off when I see the look of shock on Mom’s face. Her eyes look all over me, head to toe, a couple of times, “—care. What are you looking at?”
“That is your dress, baby.”
