“Thank you so much,” I tell them when they’re all done.
“Cora wanted us to let you know that dinner will be in an hour if you’d care to join them at the main house,” Jackie informs me.
“Can you let her know I’m actually really tired and have a bit of a headache so I’m going to lie down?” I hate to turn down Cora’s invite with all she’s done, but I don’t think I can handle seeing Cillian right now.
“Of course.” Jackie nods. “Is there anything else we can do for you?”
“You’ve done more than enough. Thank you for bringing this all here for me.”
“You’re welcome,” she says before heading out and leaving me alone in the cottage.
“I will not cry,” I tell myself as I make my way into the kitchen, where I find a pint of ice cream and a bottle of cold white wine. I pour a glass, and when I take a small sip, I’m surprised it’s not bad. I’ve never been a big drinker because the taste always grossed me out. This is actually sweet and goes nicely with my ice cream.
My eyes drift over to the boxes, and before I know it, I’ve eaten half of the ice cream, drunk a few glasses of wine, and now have all the pretty panties and bras out of the boxes.
“Fashion show,” I declare to myself as I pour another glass of wine, then dig my phone out of the couch. I have to pull the cushions off to find it, but eventually I’m successful.
I take a picture of myself in each set of matching panties and bras in the full-length mirror in the bedroom. That way I can scroll through them all at once to see which are my favorites. When I’m done, I leave the last one on and drop back onto the bed.
Looking through the pictures, I actually love them all. Too bad no one will ever get to see me wearing such beautiful things. I don’t know if it’s the wine or the sugar rush, but my parents can shove it. I’m not going to marry anyone. I’m over all of this bullshit.
As always, my mind drifts to Cillian, and I wonder what he’s doing. Maybe he’s talking to one of those sweet girls who brought me the boxes. I bet he doesn’t see them as sisterly.
I flip through the pictures again, this time thinking it would be so easy to just send one to Cillian. Too bad he doesn’t want one.
I toss my phone to the other side of the bed and grab my Kindle. I’ll get lost in a love story that won’t break my heart and always has a happily ever after.
Chapter Eight
Cillian
“What do you mean she’s not coming?”
“I’m not sure. She just sent a message that she was tired.” My mother shrugs as she moves past me to set the flowers on the sidebar. We have people that can do that for her, but she loves gardening and having fresh flowers everywhere.
“Who told you that?”
“The stylist Jackie. They went down earlier to drop off the clothes I ordered, and she said she was tired and was going to skip dinner.”
“She still should have something to eat.”
My mother turns around to face me, and for some reason I think she’s planned this. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“Me?” She pretends to be innocent. “I would never keep anything from my children.” The sly smile she gives me lets me know she’s teasing. We both know she’s the best secret keeper in the family.
“Listen, Cora—”
“How dare you use my first name.” Now she’s pretending to be dramatically offended as she puts her hand over her heart. “I’m your mommy now and forever.”
“Cut the crap, Mother.” I enunciate the last word, and she rolls her eyes.
“Always so grouchy.” She has the nerve to pinch my cheek as she walks right past me.
“What is it you’re not telling me?” I stalk after her, and I swear I hear her laugh.
She goes back to the long table in the kitchen that’s covered in fresh cut flowers and begins to arrange another vase.
“Did you see all the roses Jeremy brought up from the south garden? Aren’t they spectacular?”
Jeremy.
I didn’t realize he was carrying anything, but it’s not like I paid a lot of attention. Between kissing Glenda and then her turning away from me, I couldn’t think about anything else. Let alone if he might or might not have been carting flowers to my mom.
“So that’s how you’re going to play this?” I’m standing behind her, and she smiles as she holds a rose up for inspection.
“You know I planted these right after your father and I were married.”
“Mom,” I warn, and I swear her grin widens.
“Since you inherited the property, I suppose these will be here for your own wife to enjoy.” When she’s finished filling the vase, she turns around and holds it out to me. “Here.”
I want to roll my eyes, but I love my mom even if she’s being aggravating. “Where do you want these?” I decide that the sooner I put them where they’re supposed to go, the sooner I can interrogate her about what Jeremy told her.
“In the cottage, of course.” She looks at me like I’m being ridiculous, but I see her sly smirk.
“In the cottage?” I narrow my eyes on her.
“I’m sure they’ll make Glenda feel much better.” She holds her chin up as she walks past me. “At the very least, they’re great for an apology.”
“An apology?” I stand there totally confused as I stare at the bouquet. It’s stunning, but I’m not about to tell her that right this second. “Mom?”
She’s already long gone, leaving me with the flowers and more confused than ever. What on earth do I have to apologize for? Glenda was the one that gave me the cold shoulder.
My mom and dad have been married for so long that sometimes I forget that they were ever not married. In all those years, I’ve seen them disagree, but I’ve never seen them fight. Maybe they know something I don’t. My dad won’t be here until late tonight since he’s finishing business in the city, but maybe I can text him and ask what the hell Mom is talking about. Maybe the key to a happy marriage is to apologize when you have no idea what else to do?
Deciding to deliver the flowers as an excuse to see Glenda, I begin to walk toward the cottage as I call my dad.
“Hey, son,” he answers, and I go straight for it.
“Do you ever apologize to Mom when you don’t know what you’ve done wrong?”
“Why, is she mad at me?” It sounds like everything around him stops, and I want to roll my eyes.
“No, I’m asking for advice.”
“Oh, thank god.” He lets out a sigh of relief. “And yes, I apologize all the time.”
“When you don’t know what you did? That seems ridiculous.”
“Son, there’s one piece of advice that I got from my dad on my wedding day that I’ve carried throughout my marriage.”
“Which is?” I stop walking and stare at the cottage in the distance.
“Always ask yourself this: Do you want to be right or do you want to be happy?”
“What?” Now I’m even more confused.