All Your Perfects(57)
I feel myself starting to resent the whole idea of a lavish wedding. I would vent my frustration to Graham, but if I did that, I’d have to tell him why my mother is frustrating me. The last thing I want to do is share with Graham all the underhanded things my mother says about him.
I look down at my phone as another text comes through from my mother.
You should rethink the buffet, Quinn. Evelyn Bradbury hired a private chef for her wedding and it was so much classier.
I roll my eyes and flip my phone over so I won’t be subjected to more of her texts.
I hear the front door to my apartment close, so I grab my brush. I pretend I’m just brushing my hair rather than moping in the bathroom when Graham walks in. The sight of him alone instantly calms me. My frustration is now long gone and replaced with a smile. Graham wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses me on the neck. “Hey, beautiful.” He smiles at me in the mirror.
“Hey, handsome.”
He spins me around and gives me an even better kiss. “How was your day?”
“Fine. How was yours?”
“Fine.”
I push against his chest because he’s staring at me too hard and I might accidentally let my true emotions out and then he’ll ask me what’s wrong and I’ll have to tell him how much this wedding is stressing me out.
I turn around and face the mirror, hoping he’ll go to the living room or the kitchen or anywhere that isn’t somewhere he can stare at me like he’s staring at me right now.
“What’s bothering you?”
Sometimes I hate how well he knows me.
Except during sex. It comes in handy during sex.
“Why can’t you be oblivious to a woman’s emotional state like most men?”
He smiles and pulls me to him. “If I was oblivious to your emotional state, I would merely be a man in love with you. But I’m more than that. I’m your soul mate and I can feel everything you’re feeling.” He presses his lips to my forehead. “Why are you sad, Quinn?”
I sigh, exasperated. “My mother.” He releases me and I walk to the bedroom and sit on my bed. I fall backward and stare up at the ceiling. “She’s trying to turn our wedding into the wedding she had planned for me and Ethan. She’s not even asking me what we want, Graham. She’s just making decisions and telling me after the fact.”
Graham crawls onto the bed and lays beside me, propping his head up on his hand. He rests his other hand on my stomach.
“Yesterday she told me she put down a deposit at the Douglas Whimberly Plaza for the date of our wedding. She’s not even asking what we want, but because she’s paying for everything, she thinks it earns her the right to make all the decisions. Today she texted and said she ordered the invitations.”
Graham makes a face. “You think that means our wedding invitations will have the word prestigious in them?”
I laugh. “I’d be more shocked if they didn’t.” My head flops to the side and I give him the most pathetic look, short of pouting. “I don’t want a huge wedding in a fancy plaza with all my mother’s friends there.”
“What do you want?”
“At this point I don’t even know that I want a wedding.” Graham tilts his head, a little concerned by my comment. I quickly rectify it. “I don’t mean I don’t want to marry you. I just don’t want to marry you in my mother’s dream wedding.”
Graham gives me a reassuring smile. “We’ve only been engaged for three months. We still have five months before the wedding date. There’s plenty of time to put your foot down and make sure you get what you want. If it’ll make things easier for you, just blame everything on me. Tell her I said no and she can hate me for ruining her dream wedding while keeping the peace between the two of you.”
Why is he so perfect? “You really don’t care if I blame you?”
He laughs. “Quinn, your mother already hates me. This will give her a little more justification for her hatred and then everyone wins.” He stands up and slips off his shoes. “We going out tonight?”
“Whatever you want to do. Ava and Reid are ordering some kind of fight on Pay-Per-View and invited us over.”
Graham undoes his tie. “That sounds fun. I have some emails I need to send but I can be ready in an hour.”
I watch as he leaves the room. I fall back onto the bed and smile because it feels like he just might have come up with a solution to some of my issues in less than two minutes. But even though the solution sounds like a good one—just blame Graham for everything—my mother will never go for it. She’ll just point out that Graham isn’t paying for the wedding, so Graham doesn’t get a say.
But still. He tried to solve my issues. That’s what counts, right? He’s willing to take the blame for something just to keep the peace between my mother and me.
I can’t believe I get to marry that man in five months. I can’t believe I get to spend the rest of my life with him. Even if that life together will start in the Douglas Whimberly Plaza, surrounded by people I barely know and food that’s so expensive, it guarantees ample trays full of raw meat and ceviche that no one actually likes to eat, but pretends to because it’s fancy.
Oh, well. The wedding may not be ideal, but it will only be a few painful hours, followed by a lifetime of perfection.