So I’ll support Nikki’s decision, and I won’t stand in her way. But I never promised to play fair.
44
Nikki
Why the fuckam I doing this?
It’s a little too late to be having these thoughts, given that I’m standing in front of the restaurant where I’ll be having dinner with Justin and his parents.
While getting ready, I decided to go with minimal makeup. I chose a simple little black wrap dress that hits right above the knee, and my black heels are ones I wear to work often. After giving myself a satisfied look in the mirror, I threw my blond tresses into a high ponytail and left the apartment before I decided to second-guess my decision for the billionth time today. I’m hoping my overall look screams “uninterested,” yet before I left the house, Tony’s gaze quietly ate me up, as if I were leaving the house in lingerie.
For a man who I have lovingly dubbed “caveman,” he’s been pretty calm about tonight. He had just stepped out of the shower when I was ready to leave, and he gave me a chaste kiss on the lips before I put on my peacoat and left the apartment. I was a little disappointed, to be honest. I was expecting him to ravish me, give me a hickey, or perform some type of ritual to claim me as his before I left. But all I got was a kiss and a “have fun tonight, mi amor.”
Rude, if you ask me.
I take one final deep breath before I freeze my tits out here, then enter the restaurant. I’m immediately greeted by low ambient lighting and light jazz music. I picked this restaurant months ago for its classy and old-school vibe. Now I kinda wish I had picked a place with louder music so I could drown out of my thoughts of dread.
The hostess smiles politely at me as I make my way toward her, but I’m intercepted by Justin, who seems to have been waiting for me by the entry doors.
He’s dressed better than I’ve ever seen him dress in our entire relationship. A tailored blue suit, crisp white button-down shirt, and shiny black shoes. And his dark blond hair is freshly cut and styled. I know this is an anniversary dinner for his parents, but for some reason, he looks more like a groom than a restaurant patron.
“Nikki, you look stunning,” he says as he leans in to give me a kiss on the cheek. That action alone has my stomach churning. It feels wrong to have his lips on me when all of me belongs to the man waiting at home.
If I’m going to do this, I’m going to need some ground rules with Justin. Mainly, a hands-off policy.
“Hey, Justin. Can we just go over a few things before—”
“Nikki, so glad to see you, honey! We missed you at Christmas. How is your friend Amelia doing?” Justin’s mother, Deb, barrels toward me with open arms.
I awkwardly return her hug and do the same with Justin’s dad, Carl, who is standing beside us with a proud look on his face.
After we’ve all said hello, we’re ushered to our table in the middle of the restaurant. This place is on the smaller side, so all the other tables are within arm’s reach of each other.
Justin pulls my chair out for me, and we all settle into our table.
Now that I’m here, sitting across from Justin’s parents, I recognize that I probably should have just turned him down when I had the chance. Because they’re beaming with excitement, and I feel plagued with guilt. The same funny feeling that got me into this mess in the first place.
Note to self: when you break up with someone, you are entitled to turn down any dinner invitations, especially ones that include their parents.
I’m going to need copious amounts of wine if I’m going to get through the night. I eagerly flag down a waiter so he can start us off with a round of drinks.
“She’ll have a glass of Chardonnay.” Justin nods toward me while speaking with the waiter.
I hear a record scratch go off in my brain. This is not the time to mess with my drink of choice.
“Actually, a glass of sauvignon blanc. A heavy pour, please. If your glasses have that little line that indicates where the wine should come up to, just double it. Charge me whatever it costs, thanks.” I salute the waiter when he gives me a knowing smile.
I look around the table and see questioning faces. I know I agreed to come to this shindig, but there was nothing in the agreement about being a demure pretend girlfriend. I’m riding this dinner out my way.
“So, forty years! Wow. Such an accomplishment. Tell us your secret,” I say as I plan to keep the attention solely on the celebrating couple tonight.
Deb and Carl share a loving look before Deb answers for them. “There’s no real secret. Obviously, communication and patience, but the biggest thing is not giving up on one another, especially when things get tough.”
I can’t calm my nerves or stop my head from nodding like a bobblehead. If she only knew how her words are making me squirm, especially since I dumped her son, who currently has an arm draped over the back of my chair. My body naturally tries to create space, but at this rate, I’m pretty sure my boobs are fully resting on the table, and poor Carl is having a hard time being seated across from me.
My new best friend, our waiter, Bobby, arrives with our drinks. I almost laugh at how well he followed my instructions, given the fact that my glass of wine is almost filled to the brim, and the other three glasses have a more appropriate pour.
I immediately bring the glass to my lips and only need to tilt it slightly to take a few sips. I’m so focused on not spilling a single drop that I fail to notice the rest of the table staring at me while holding up their glasses, waiting in silence for me to catch up so they can toast.
