“This is why you have to invite people with good taste to your birthday,” I said. “Or you’ll end up with a dozen ugly trinkets and an itchy sweater that’s two sizes too big.”
She laughed, adding the shawl to the pile of silk scarves, cashmere sweaters, and other apparel on the couch.
I’d divided the upstairs parlor-turned-gift-room into sections by gift category: clothing, accessories, shoes and handbags, beauty, food and wine, home goods, electronics, and miscellaneous. There was already a decent pile in every section, and we were only halfway through my presents.
To be honest, I usually donated most of it to charity. I kept myfavorite items and those that were given to me by actual friends and family, but generic trinkets from acquaintances went straight to local nonprofits. I had enough belongings without hoarding stuff I’d never use.
Ultra-luxury noise-canceling headphones. A priceless Ming vase. A diamond tennis bracelet.
I placed them where they belonged and reached for the next present. It was a metallic gold envelope with my name written across the front.
My pulse jumped. That was Sebastian’s handwriting.
I tore open the envelope with impatient hands. There was a sleek black card sleeve inside, and I opened it to reveal…
A twenty-thousand-dollar gift card to Delamonte, just like he’d said.
My shoulders slumped. Fresh disappointment settled like a rock in my chest as I slid the card back into the envelope.
Why should I have expected anything else? He’d told me exactly what he’d gotten me, and he had no reason to lie. Besides, twenty grand was nothing to sneeze at.
But as I placed the envelope in the miscellaneous pile, I couldn’t shake off my misgiving. Our gift-giving tradition was rooted in rivalry, but our presents had alwaysmeantsomething. A gift card was soulless and generic. It was something you bought a co-worker or a friend of a friend, not someone you’d known your entire life.
By the time we finished unwrapping everything, I’d managed to push Sebastian’s strange behavior to the recesses of my mind. Unfortunately, that void was filled with a topic I had even less interest in discussing.
“Can we talk about your parents’ ultimatum?” Ayana asked. She sat cross-legged on the floor next to the beauty pile, her skin so luminous she was positively glowing. “What are you going todo? A year is not that much time.”
She didn’t ask what they were all probably thinking—why was I adhering to my parents’ arbitrary timeline when I was a full-grown, fully capable adult? Why couldn’t I date (ornotdate) whomever I wanted, whenever I wanted?
I could, but that would mean more than an argument; it would mean a full break from tradition and possibly my family.
“Go on more dates, I guess,” I said, my stomach winding into knots. “What else can I do?”
“Did you like Killian?” Sloane asked. “He’s such a player, but you never know. You could be the one to tame him.”
Xavier had introduced me to Killian earlier that night. Technically, it was a reintroduction since Killian and I were already acquainted, but we hadn’t interacted in so long that Xavier’s obvious setup was necessary.
“I liked him fine,” I said. “He’s hot, but I don’t know. The chemistry wasn’t there. Besides, I don’t have the time or energy to ‘tame’ anyone. I’ll leave that to someone else.”
Killian and I had chatted for fifteen minutes about art, travel, and the upcoming holidays. It’d been a perfectly pleasant conversation, but I had more romantic tension with my hair dryer.
“Too bad,” Isabella mused. “I would’velovedto see someone bring that man to his knees.”
“Arranged marriages can be good. Dante and I—” Vivian stopped, obviously remembering the rocky start to her engagement. Her marriage hadn’t been arranged so much as forced, courtesy of the blackmail her father had on Dante at the time. “Um, never mind.”
I kept quiet while the girls brainstormed other options.
Frustration gnawed at me.If this were a work issue, I’d have solved it in minutes because I had a crisis management plan for everything. When problem A occurs, implement solution B (adjust parameters as needed), to get outcome C. Nice, neat, logical.
Personal problems were the opposite of that. Emotions were messy and complicated, and whentwopeople’s emotions were involved, the complication factor quadrupled.
It was partly why I’d avoided certain relationships. I hated messy.
But I’d also reached a point where I couldn’t hide anymore. I had to dive straight into the mess and hope I made it out intact. If not, I could kiss the prospect of love goodbye.
I sat back on my heels and stared at the sea of presents before me. I would trade them all for a solution to my problem if I could. Sadly, I couldn’t.
I sighed.Happy birthday to me.
