During the opening credits, I looked up at him. “I’m your girlfriend?”
With his eyes still on the screen, he smiled and kissed the top of my head. “You are, if you don’t mind me being your boyfriend.”
What I said next wasn’t meant to be said out loud yet somehow it was. “But you don’t know my last name.”
He nodded. “True. It could be hideous and then what would I do? I’d have to introduce you as my girlfriend, Isabel Wrenchenheimer.”
I burst out laughing, drying tears from my eyes. “It’s Wrenchenheimer-opolous, and you have to learn to spell it, or this won’t work out.”
Scott hurled over in laughter, then stroked my cheek playfully. “Sweetheart your last name, no matter how long it takes me to learn to spell it is not a deal breaker for me.”
How about my first name?
I dried more tears from laughter, sobering up too quickly and reached for the bowl of popcorn. He raised his arm so I could rest my head on his chest. I settled into him again, resisting his musky smell. I needed to behave today. Claiming more of what wasn’t quite mine seemed wrong and would only hurt that much more if things didn’t turn out the way I hoped.
As if sensing my doubts and fears, he cupped the side of my face. “You okay?”
I nodded. I wasn’t sure when it happened, but I had fallen hopelessly in love with Scott Weston. The realization made my stomach churn and the high from earlier quickly faded.
The man sitting beside me was going to break my heart. I knew it and wasn’t running for the door. Instead I would be selfishly soaking up every minute with him until it’d be time to let go.
Stop being so negative.
This had my mother written all over it. Like I said; weeks to get past even the smallest conversations with her.
I hadn’t noticed the movie was paused until Scott pulled himself off the couch. “So, what are you doing next Sunday?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m attending the Winter Ballard and I was hoping you’d be my date.”
My face fell and I could feel all color draining from it as I stared back at him.
I heard it wrong. Please tell me I heard him wrong.
W-where?
“Surely you’d heard of it. Empire fashions is putting together the biggest fashion event of the year next week. Some of the country’s greatest designers will be attending. I usually sponsor these types of things, but I’m—”
Think, think.
“I would love to, but I—” I stood, feeling as though I would come out of my skin if I didn’t move. My hands were shaking and I took a breath.
Isabel, how would Isabel turn him down?
“Unfortunately, I’m otherwise engaged that evening.”
His brows creased and I could tell he wasn’t buying it. What killed it for me, I wondered. Was it the ‘otherwise engaged’ remark?
“I see,” he said after a minute. “Why don’t you meet me over there if you get free?” The invitation wasn’t as inviting as the first one. This one was more testy, as if he was waiting for another excuse.
My heart broke for him. For us.
Jesus, I just need one more goddamn week.
“Why don’t I meet you here after it’s over?” I countered, forcing a smile.
His eyes searched mine for a moment and he stepped closer. My heart raced as I willed my hands to stop shaking. For the sweat beads on my forehead to disappear. For him to just not notice me falling apart inside.
