Chapter 2
The sunlight outside was so bright it made me squint.
My phone buzzed in my bag.
Finally, the info I'd asked someone to look into about the wedding planning company came through.
The owner was Emily.
The company was in debt to the tune of 800 thousand dollars.
James not only took care of all the wedding preparations, but he casually paid off all of Emily's debts.
I turned off my phone and slipped it back into my bag.
James opened the car door for me, his hand thoughtfully shielding the top so I wouldn't bump my head. "Get in, Sophia."
I slid into the passenger seat, watching him walk around the front of the car and get into the driver's seat.
As he buckled his seatbelt, he asked offhandedly, "You didn't happen to overhear Michael and me chatting in there, did you?"
I turned my head, watching the street outside blur past. "I heard you."
My voice came through loud and clear in the closed car.
James's grip on the steering wheel tightened a bit, and the car slowed down.
He turned to look at me, his gaze sizing me up for a split second, so quick that anyone would almost miss it.
"What did you hear?" he asked, his tone calm and steady.
"I heard you say the wedding dress can't be altered," I said, not taking my eyes off the street outside.
James let out a sigh of relief.
He reached over and took my hand, which was resting on my knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Don't be upset, I'm doing this to make sure the wedding turns out perfect.
"After all, this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing. I want to make it the best for you."
That was like James. He had a knack for dressing up all his selfishness and double standards as if they were acts of deep affection.
I slipped my hand out of his, using the excuse of grabbing a tissue from my bag.
"I'm not upset," I said, wiping at imaginary sweat on my forehead.
The car pulled up in front of a fancy restaurant.
James smoothly valeted the car and led me to a private booth.
He picked up the menu and didn't bother to ask me what I wanted, rattling off a few dishes to the waiter. "A tuna poke bowl, a crab and corn bisque, and a peanut butter banana smoothie."
The waiter took the order and left respectfully.
I sat across from him, lifted the water in front of me, and took a sip.
"I don't eat peanuts," I said, setting the cup down and looking at him.
James paused, searching his memory for a moment. "Didn't you use to be crazy about peanuts?"
"That was Emily. She was the one who liked them," I said calmly.
The air in the private room seemed to freeze for a moment.
James's face clouded over briefly, but he quickly softened, slipping back into his usual gentle expression. "Sophia, are you still upset about the wedding dress?"
He sighed, his face full of resignation.
James said, "Emily's company has been struggling lately. Since I'm her friend and happened to need a wedding planned, handing her the job was me lending a hand.
"It's all to make sure the wedding goes off without a hitch. Don't take it so personally."
He practically spelled out the words "the wedding," making sure I didn't miss it.
Just slap our wedding in front of anything, and suddenly all his boundary-crossing seems perfectly justified.
"I'm not being sensitive," I said, my eyes calm and unreadable as I looked at him. "I'm allergic to peanuts."
James frowned, as if he didn't quite believe me, "Allergic? We've been together for six months. How come I never knew?"
"Because you never ordered anything with peanuts for me," I said, pointing out the truth.
This was the first time we'd ever gone out in this restaurant.
Every other time we went out, he'd always take me out for fine dining or traditional spots.
Because Emily didn't like those kinds of food.
He always reserved Emily's favorite cuisines for her.
Maybe something was weighing on James's mind today, because he automatically ordered Emily's favorite, peanut butter banana smoothie, without realizing it.
James pressed his lips together and rang the service bell.
"Can you swap a peanut butter banana smoothie for a vegetable salad?" he asked the waiter who came in.
After the waiter left, James looked at me with a hint of resignation in his voice.
"Sorry, I guess I remembered it wrong," he said. "I've been so busy with all the wedding stuff lately, my brain is a mess."
He reached out, trying to hold my hand again.
I lifted my water, sidestepping his touch. "It's fine."
James simply withdrew his hand, acting as if nothing had happened.
He seemed to think that as long as I said it was fine, the whole thing was over and done with.
The food arrived quickly.
James picked up a piece of tuna and placed it on my plate. "Eat up. It's low-calorie, so you'll still fit perfectly into your wedding dress."
I stared at the raw fish on my plate, a bit of wasabi clinging to it, and my stomach churned with a faint wave of nausea.
I didn't touch my fork, sat there quietly, watching him eat.
He ate with such grace, savoring every bite, taking his time with each mouthful.