All Your Perfects
Page 37
* * *
“I’m flying home,” Ava blurts out, before I even have the chance to say hello.
“No you aren’t. I’m fine.”
“Quinn, I’m your sister. I want to come stay with you.”
“No,” I repeat. “I’ll be fine. You’re pregnant. The last thing you need is to spend all day on an airplane.”
She sighs heavily.
“Besides,” I add. “I’m thinking about coming to visit you, instead.” It’s a lie. I haven’t thought about it until this very moment. But my impending two weeks on bed rest makes me realize how much I’ll need to put space between our house and myself when I’m finally recovered.
“Really? Can you? When do you think you’ll be released to fly?”
“I’ll ask the doctor when she discharges me.”
“Please don’t say that if you aren’t serious.”
“I am serious. I think it’ll do me some good.”
“What about Graham? Won’t he be using all his vacation time during your recovery?”
I don’t talk about my marriage troubles to anyone. Not even Ava. “I want to come alone,” I say. I don’t elaborate. I haven’t told her Graham quit his job and I didn’t tell her about him kissing another woman. But by the pause Ava gives me, I can tell she knows something is up. I’ll wait to tell her about everything until I actually see her in person.
“Okay,” she says. “Talk to your doctor and let me know a date.”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
After I end the call, I look up from the hospital bed to see Graham standing in the doorway. I wait for him to tell me it’s not a good idea to plan travel after just having surgery. Instead, he just looks down at the coffee cup in his hand. “You’re going to visit Ava?”
He doesn’t say we. Part of me feels guilty. But surely he understands that I need space.
“Not until I get cleared to fly. But yeah. I need to see her.”
He doesn’t look up from his cup. He just nods a little and says, “Are you coming back?”
“Of course.”
Of course.
I don’t say it with a lot of conviction, but there’s enough in my voice to assure him that this isn’t a separation. It’s just a break.
He swallows heavily. “How long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a couple of weeks.”
Graham nods and then takes a sip from his cup while kicking off the door. “We have some airline miles on our card. Let me know when you want to leave and I’ll book your flight.”
Chapter Twenty-five
* * *
Then
I don’t remember Ethan’s and my wedding plans being this stressful.
That might have been because I let my mother take the reins back then and had very little to do with the planning. But this is different. I want Graham and I to decide on what flavor of cake we want. I want Graham and I to decide who to invite and where it should be and what time of day we want to commit to each other for the rest of our lives. But my mother won’t stop making decisions that I don’t want her to make, no matter how many times I ask her to stop.
“I just want your day to be perfect, Quinn,” she says.
“Graham can’t afford these things, so I’m only trying to help out,” she says.
“Don’t forget to have him sign a prenup,” she says.
“You never know if your stepfather will leave you an inheritance,” she says. “You need to protect your assets.”
She says things that make me feel like marriage is nothing more than a loan to her, rather than a commitment of love. She’s brought up the idea of a prenuptial agreement so many times, she forgets that as it stands, I have no assets to protect. Besides, I know Graham isn’t marrying me for the money or property my stepfather may or may not leave me one day. Graham would marry me even if I were up to my eyeballs in debt.
I feel myself starting to resent the whole idea of a lavish wedding. I would vent my frustration to Graham, but if I did that, I’d have to tell him why my mother is frustrating me. The last thing I want to do is share with Graham all the underhanded things my mother says about him.
I look down at my phone as another text comes through from my mother.
You should rethink the buffet, Quinn. Evelyn Bradbury hired a private chef for her wedding and it was so much classier.
I roll my eyes and flip my phone over so I won’t be subjected to more of her texts.
I hear the front door to my apartment close, so I grab my brush. I pretend I’m just brushing my hair rather than moping in the bathroom when Graham walks in. The sight of him alone instantly calms me. My frustration is now long gone and replaced with a smile. Graham wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses me on the neck. “Hey, beautiful.” He smiles at me in the mirror.
“Hey, handsome.”
He spins me around and gives me an even better kiss. “How was your day?”
“Fine. How was yours?”
“Fine.”
I push against his chest because he’s staring at me too hard and I might accidentally let my true emotions out and then he’ll ask me what’s wrong and I’ll have to tell him how much this wedding is stressing me out.
I turn around and face the mirror, hoping he’ll go to the living room or the kitchen or anywhere that isn’t somewhere he can stare at me like he’s staring at me right now.
“What’s bothering you?”
Sometimes I hate how well he knows me.
Except during sex. It comes in handy during sex.
“Why can’t you be oblivious to a woman’s emotional state like most men?”
He smiles and pulls me to him. “If I was oblivious to your emotional state, I would merely be a man in love with you. But I’m more than that. I’m your soul mate and I can feel everything you’re feeling.” He presses his lips to my forehead. “Why are you sad, Quinn?”
I sigh, exasperated. “My mother.” He releases me and I walk to the bedroom and sit on my bed. I fall backward and stare up at the ceiling. “She’s trying to turn our wedding into the wedding she had planned for me and Ethan. She’s not even asking me what we want, Graham. She’s just making decisions and telling me after the fact.”
Graham crawls onto the bed and lays beside me, propping his head up on his hand. He rests his other hand on my stomach.
“Yesterday she told me she put down a deposit at the Douglas Whimberly Plaza for the date of our wedding. She’s not even asking what we want, but because she’s paying for everything, she thinks it earns her the right to make all the decisions. Today she texted and said she ordered the invitations.”
Graham makes a face. “You think that means our wedding invitations will have the word prestigious in them?”
I laugh. “I’d be more shocked if they didn’t.” My head flops to the side and I give him the most pathetic look, short of pouting. “I don’t want a huge wedding in a fancy plaza with all my mother’s friends there.”
“What do you want?”
“At this point I don’t even know that I want a wedding.” Graham tilts his head, a little concerned by my comment. I quickly rectify it. “I don’t mean I don’t want to marry you. I just don’t want to marry you in my mother’s dream wedding.”
Graham gives me a reassuring smile. “We’ve only been engaged for three months. We still have five months before the wedding date. There’s plenty of time to put your foot down and make sure you get what you want. If it’ll make things easier for you, just blame everything on me. Tell her I said no and she can hate me for ruining her dream wedding while keeping the peace between the two of you.”
Why is he so perfect? “You really don’t care if I blame you?”
He laughs. “Quinn, your mother already hates me. This will give her a little more justification for her hatred and then everyone wins.” He stands up and slips off his shoes. “We going out tonight?”
“Whatever you want to do. Ava and Reid are ordering some kind of fight on Pay-Per-View and invited us over.”
“I’m flying home,” Ava blurts out, before I even have the chance to say hello.
“No you aren’t. I’m fine.”
“Quinn, I’m your sister. I want to come stay with you.”
“No,” I repeat. “I’ll be fine. You’re pregnant. The last thing you need is to spend all day on an airplane.”
She sighs heavily.
“Besides,” I add. “I’m thinking about coming to visit you, instead.” It’s a lie. I haven’t thought about it until this very moment. But my impending two weeks on bed rest makes me realize how much I’ll need to put space between our house and myself when I’m finally recovered.
“Really? Can you? When do you think you’ll be released to fly?”
“I’ll ask the doctor when she discharges me.”
“Please don’t say that if you aren’t serious.”
“I am serious. I think it’ll do me some good.”
“What about Graham? Won’t he be using all his vacation time during your recovery?”
I don’t talk about my marriage troubles to anyone. Not even Ava. “I want to come alone,” I say. I don’t elaborate. I haven’t told her Graham quit his job and I didn’t tell her about him kissing another woman. But by the pause Ava gives me, I can tell she knows something is up. I’ll wait to tell her about everything until I actually see her in person.
“Okay,” she says. “Talk to your doctor and let me know a date.”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
After I end the call, I look up from the hospital bed to see Graham standing in the doorway. I wait for him to tell me it’s not a good idea to plan travel after just having surgery. Instead, he just looks down at the coffee cup in his hand. “You’re going to visit Ava?”
He doesn’t say we. Part of me feels guilty. But surely he understands that I need space.
“Not until I get cleared to fly. But yeah. I need to see her.”
He doesn’t look up from his cup. He just nods a little and says, “Are you coming back?”
“Of course.”
Of course.
I don’t say it with a lot of conviction, but there’s enough in my voice to assure him that this isn’t a separation. It’s just a break.
He swallows heavily. “How long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a couple of weeks.”
Graham nods and then takes a sip from his cup while kicking off the door. “We have some airline miles on our card. Let me know when you want to leave and I’ll book your flight.”
Chapter Twenty-five
* * *
Then
I don’t remember Ethan’s and my wedding plans being this stressful.
That might have been because I let my mother take the reins back then and had very little to do with the planning. But this is different. I want Graham and I to decide on what flavor of cake we want. I want Graham and I to decide who to invite and where it should be and what time of day we want to commit to each other for the rest of our lives. But my mother won’t stop making decisions that I don’t want her to make, no matter how many times I ask her to stop.
“I just want your day to be perfect, Quinn,” she says.
“Graham can’t afford these things, so I’m only trying to help out,” she says.
“Don’t forget to have him sign a prenup,” she says.
“You never know if your stepfather will leave you an inheritance,” she says. “You need to protect your assets.”
She says things that make me feel like marriage is nothing more than a loan to her, rather than a commitment of love. She’s brought up the idea of a prenuptial agreement so many times, she forgets that as it stands, I have no assets to protect. Besides, I know Graham isn’t marrying me for the money or property my stepfather may or may not leave me one day. Graham would marry me even if I were up to my eyeballs in debt.
I feel myself starting to resent the whole idea of a lavish wedding. I would vent my frustration to Graham, but if I did that, I’d have to tell him why my mother is frustrating me. The last thing I want to do is share with Graham all the underhanded things my mother says about him.
I look down at my phone as another text comes through from my mother.
You should rethink the buffet, Quinn. Evelyn Bradbury hired a private chef for her wedding and it was so much classier.
I roll my eyes and flip my phone over so I won’t be subjected to more of her texts.
I hear the front door to my apartment close, so I grab my brush. I pretend I’m just brushing my hair rather than moping in the bathroom when Graham walks in. The sight of him alone instantly calms me. My frustration is now long gone and replaced with a smile. Graham wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses me on the neck. “Hey, beautiful.” He smiles at me in the mirror.
“Hey, handsome.”
He spins me around and gives me an even better kiss. “How was your day?”
“Fine. How was yours?”
“Fine.”
I push against his chest because he’s staring at me too hard and I might accidentally let my true emotions out and then he’ll ask me what’s wrong and I’ll have to tell him how much this wedding is stressing me out.
I turn around and face the mirror, hoping he’ll go to the living room or the kitchen or anywhere that isn’t somewhere he can stare at me like he’s staring at me right now.
“What’s bothering you?”
Sometimes I hate how well he knows me.
Except during sex. It comes in handy during sex.
“Why can’t you be oblivious to a woman’s emotional state like most men?”
He smiles and pulls me to him. “If I was oblivious to your emotional state, I would merely be a man in love with you. But I’m more than that. I’m your soul mate and I can feel everything you’re feeling.” He presses his lips to my forehead. “Why are you sad, Quinn?”
I sigh, exasperated. “My mother.” He releases me and I walk to the bedroom and sit on my bed. I fall backward and stare up at the ceiling. “She’s trying to turn our wedding into the wedding she had planned for me and Ethan. She’s not even asking me what we want, Graham. She’s just making decisions and telling me after the fact.”
Graham crawls onto the bed and lays beside me, propping his head up on his hand. He rests his other hand on my stomach.
“Yesterday she told me she put down a deposit at the Douglas Whimberly Plaza for the date of our wedding. She’s not even asking what we want, but because she’s paying for everything, she thinks it earns her the right to make all the decisions. Today she texted and said she ordered the invitations.”
Graham makes a face. “You think that means our wedding invitations will have the word prestigious in them?”
I laugh. “I’d be more shocked if they didn’t.” My head flops to the side and I give him the most pathetic look, short of pouting. “I don’t want a huge wedding in a fancy plaza with all my mother’s friends there.”
“What do you want?”
“At this point I don’t even know that I want a wedding.” Graham tilts his head, a little concerned by my comment. I quickly rectify it. “I don’t mean I don’t want to marry you. I just don’t want to marry you in my mother’s dream wedding.”
Graham gives me a reassuring smile. “We’ve only been engaged for three months. We still have five months before the wedding date. There’s plenty of time to put your foot down and make sure you get what you want. If it’ll make things easier for you, just blame everything on me. Tell her I said no and she can hate me for ruining her dream wedding while keeping the peace between the two of you.”
Why is he so perfect? “You really don’t care if I blame you?”
He laughs. “Quinn, your mother already hates me. This will give her a little more justification for her hatred and then everyone wins.” He stands up and slips off his shoes. “We going out tonight?”
“Whatever you want to do. Ava and Reid are ordering some kind of fight on Pay-Per-View and invited us over.”
