“Anyway,” he mumbles, “the basket and the apology are for you, but they haven’t really gotten rid of the buckets of guilt I’m still feeling, so the massage is more for me. As penance.”
Ohhh. Penance. That, I can accept. I don’t have to reciprocate penance, and he’s not suddenly being an overly nice person. He’s suddenly being an overlyguiltyperson. Much, much better. Status quo: unchanged.
Which means that when I go downstairs fifteen minutes later in dry clothes, a fresh mouse wrap on my head, I’m able to fully enjoy the pizza, the movie, and the massage, guilt-free.
Well, for me anyway.
Chapter Fourteen
The bottom of the pyramid must be strong enough to support the higher levels.
Elodie
Hey everyone!
I’m a little behind, but I finally have the wedding activity schedule for you guys. Most things are tentative based on the availability of the group, but it should be a decent starting point for us as we move forward. If you have any questions, you can reach out to me directly or reply to this email chain.
I hope you’re all having a lovely day!
Regards,
Elodie Sage, The One and Only Maid of Honor
I reread my email for the third time, wondering what about it, exactly, prompted Brian to respond asking if we wanted matching Cupid wings or personalized ones. For what, I have no clue. I know thathelikes to wear a pair sometimes, but I’m not sure how that translates to group Cupid wings.
I reply that I would like mine to be yellow, if he doesn’t mind, with a bit of pink thrown in.
“Elodie,” Roman scolds from across the table. “It’s dinnertime.”
“Do you want your wings to be blue or green?” I ask, tapping at my phone. “Blue, right? To go with your eyes?”
“I don’t want wings, Sweet. I want you to respect the houserules, which you agreed to when you moved in. Dinnertime is not phone time. You’re not even supposed to have that at the table at all.”
In the kitchen, his phone dings, announcing the arrival of another email.
“Amber cutie-fied my schedule,” I tell him. “It has pink and blue hearts all over it, and a serious amount of frill.” My brows furrow. “How’d she do that so fast? Do you think she pays for the fancy Canva subscription?”
“I think she probably has an abundance of time, because she and Liam have a different dinner time than the two of us. That dinner time being not right now, as evidenced by all of the emailing.”
“Will thinks there should be more hearts on the new schedule. I’m not sure where they’d fit. Do you see this?” I turn my phone to show him Amber’s creation. “More hearts where?”
Roman doesn’t look at my phone. Roman looks at me, eyes narrowed, mouth at full scowl. Then, Roman’s hand shoots out, snatches my phone from the air, and shoves it in his back pocket.
My mouth drops. “Hey!” I protest. “You can’t just steal my phone!”
Except for that he did, the jerk.
“Eat,” he commands.
I scrunch my nose. “What happened to all your character growth and guilt?” I ask. “Two nights ago you were showering me in gifts and giving me massages. I think we should go back to that.”
“Character growth and guilt are superseded by the basic human needs all of us possess. Namely food. After dinner, I’ll show you Maslow’s pyramid. It’ll be real enlightening.”
Uh huh. I’m so sure.
“Seriously, Roman, give me back my phone.” I hold my hand out for it, frowning as it dings in his pocket.
“Seriously, Elodie, eat your dinner. I’ll give it back to you after,” he retorts, ignoring my hand.
