“It can be overwhelming, for sure.” He tries to calm me down.
“It’s just.” I look out the window and then hear someone honking at me. “It’s just…”
“It’s just what?” my father asks softly.
“I don’t know, Dad,” I tell him honestly. “I swear I feel like my life is spinning out of control and I can’t get a handle on it.”
“There are lots of changes coming your way.” He talks me down off the ledge like he has so many times before. “You are going from single to married. You will be moving in with each other and starting your life together, it’s a huge step.”
“But that is the thing,” I tell him. “Shouldn’t it be easy?”
He just laughs. “Nothing in life is easy.”
“I know, but knowing that you are going to start sharing a life with someone, shouldn’t that be easy? It shouldn’t be draining.”
“You are right about that,” he says, and I have to wonder if he isn’t telling me this just to make me not feel like an idiot right now.
“The biggest thing you did in your life was propose to a woman and ask her to spend the rest of her life with you.” I close my eyes, not ready to tell him I never really proposed. We were at dinner and discussing our future. The next thing I know, she’s telling me she wants to get married next summer. I just went along with it because I thought that this was the next step.
“Maybe it’s cold feet?” I ask and he just laughs.
“It could be.” His voice gets low. “Have you talked to Helena about it?”
“No,” I say right away, “I haven’t spoken to anyone but you.”
“Why don’t you tell her how you feel?” he suggests. I want to tell him that if I told her how I felt, she would probably tell me it’s stupid and it’s all in my head.
I pull up to the office and see one car in the parking lot and park beside it. “I just got to the wedding planner. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay,” he says, “don’t be afraid to talk about how you’re feeling.”
Yeah, right, my head screams. If only I would have listened to that advice two years ago and not let my dumbass pride get in the way, maybe things would be different. Maybe, just maybe.
I walk up the steps and open the door to Sofia’s office when I see a text from Helena.
Running late at the dressmaker, be there soon.
I panic when I see the text, getting ready to turn back around and go wait in the car, but the sound of clicking makes me look up and I see Sofia walking into the room. Her head is down, so it gives me a chance to study her without feeling like I shouldn’t be looking at her. She’s wearing another fucking skirt that hugs her hips and falls right at the knee. A tight black top shows off her perfect fucking tits. She always looks so elegant and put together. I mean she always did, even when we went riding horses, she looked like she just walked off the runway. Her hair is tucked behind her ear.
She must feel eyes on her because she looks up and sees me. Our eyes lock on each other as she comes farther into the room. My heart speeds up in my chest, which is now filled with nerves.
She looks around, not sure herself what to do. “Hello,” she greets me, putting the file in front of her and I wonder if she’s as nervous as I am. I wonder what she’s been up to for the last two years. But more importantly, I wonder if she can ever forgive me.
“Hey,” is the only thing I can say because my mouth suddenly runs dry.
She takes a look around, again not sure anymore. “Is Helena here?” she asks.
“She’s at the dressmaker and she’s running late,” I reply, holding up the phone and she nods at me. “Um,” I stutter, thinking about what to say next, “maybe we should—” I don’t even have a chance to finish asking the question because she shakes her head.
“We should do nothing but wait for Helena,” she states, and my stomach literally aches, and I hate it. I hate that this woman, who was once upon a time my best friend, the one I told my deepest secrets to, is now standing in front of me and she won’t talk to me. What the fuck did you expect? my head yells at me. You ended it with her in a drunken stupor and never went after her. “How is your family?” I ask, knowing how much they mean to her. It was one of the things we had in common. My family is huge, and before her, I had never met anyone who could go toe-to-toe with my family.
“Fine,” she answers curtly, and again, I fucking hate it.