It was everything.
Like every ounce of fear I’ve carried about this whole thing with Matt, with us, has been tied to this moment, weighing me down in ways I didn’t even realize until now.
It’s silent for way too long. Uncomfortably long.
I can feel everyone staring, including Matt, as I scoop more carrots onto my plate, acting natural. Playing it cool. Like I always do.
Somehow, IknowMatt’s smiling. That he’s proud of me. And that feeling is gold—worth every bit of shit I’m about to get.
My pappoús breaks the silence first. “I knew he always loved you. Didn’t I say during your last visit that he loved you?”
Oh my God.
I could crawl under the table. I don’t even dare look at Matt.
My mother’s next. “I’m confused. Wha—how?” she stutters. “How could you get married and not tell me? Where?”
I’m too high off the rush to answer, dopamine spilling into every nerve.
Matt steps in. “We got married at City Hall yesterday. I asked Jordan to move in. We’d already been talking about getting married, and her lease was up, so we decided it made sense to do it now. We’ll plan a big wedding for next year.”
Everyone at the table goes still.
“We were even thinking Greece,” Matt adds casually.
A smile spreads across my lips as I turn to look at him, gratitude swelling behind my ribcage.
He studied the notes.
All of them.
And God, that feeling I’ve always had for Matt—the one I’ve buried more than once, afraid to look at it, afraid of how much it could hurt—comes slamming into me without warning.
It’s terrifying.
Because I know what this is. And I also know it isn’t going to last. Thismarriagehas a timer.
A beginning… and an end.
“Christopher and I were just in Greece a few months ago,” Andrea pipes in, breaking the silence. She turns to my cousin. “Weren’t we?”
I’m grateful for the interruption, but holy shit, this woman has zero emotional intelligence.
“Yes, we were. As a matter of fact, we?—”
Yiayiá cuts Christopher off and looks directly at me. “Marriage is not something one rushes. Especially when families are involved. What you’ve done,” she continues, voice firm and unforgiving, “is very selfish.”
“I know—” I start.
My mamá speaks up. “I’ve waited my entire adult life to see you get married. I only have one child. One daughter.” She shakes her head, disappointment etched deep. “It was bad enough what you did with Richard. And now you pull a stunt like this.”
My chest clamps tight around my heart. I can’t tell if it’s guilt, nerves, or anger, but it feels like all the air is being sucked out from behind my sternum.
“Mamá,” I say, forcing calm I don’t feel. “There will still be a wedding. You can help plan the whole thing.”
She mutters something sharp in Greek and takes a long sip of her wine.
And it’s so fucking childish.
