The Ex Files (Ocean View #1)(60)
The dress is dark green with a tight fit from the chest, which has a sweetheart neckline and two dainty straps, through to the knees where it flares out. Not too much, just enough to give you a bit of a twirl if you swing your hips back and forth. It fits like a glove and did right off the rack, but the real showstopper is the low, low back stopping just above my ass. It’s almost risque with the amount of revealed, bare skin. My hair is curled into big waves and loose except for the small bit on one side pinned back with gold clips.
I feel… pretty.
I feel… acceptable.
I feel… that regardless of how long I spent on this, someone will have something to say about it.
“Jesus, sweetheart. You’re fucking gorgeous.” His words are laced with awe, like he can’t even process what he’s seeing.
“Thanks.” The words come out unsure, self-conscious, because it’s how I feel. He hears it, as always, and reaches a hand out to pull me close to him.
“Cassie, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. You’re going to walk in there and all eyes are going to be on you. Everyone is going to wonder how on earth I scored a fuckin’ eleven.” I laugh at his words, humoring him. His hands push me back once more, just enough to look into my eyes. He stares at me for long moments, like he’s decoding my thoughts and the emotions written on my face. “We’re gonna work on this.”
“On what?”
“This fucked-up idea you have of yourself.”
“I don’t have—”
“You do, Cass. And it’s fine. Gives me somethin’ to do. I’ll spend as long as I need to show you how beautiful you are. Run to the ends of the earth. Tell you every day you’re gorgeous, remind you how damn hard you make me. Whatever it takes until you see what the rest of the world sees.”
“I’ve got a belly and—”
“Shut up. You shut up and you kick those assholes out of your head. You don’t let them get to you, don’t let them tell you how to feel about yourself when you’re the most beautiful person, inside and out, I’ve ever met. And after tonight? Fuck those assholes. This is it. Unless you really, truly want to, we are not seeing your scumbag of a dad. Not goin’ out of your way to make time for a man who doesn’t treat you like a damn princess, for a man who doesn’t think you make the world turn.”
“Luke, I—” My eyes are watering, his words breaking the shell of the heartbroken little girl inside of me, shattering any reserve I made to protect myself from falling harder.
“No, not talking about this anymore. You’re not gonna shed a single fuckin’ tear. Not now. Not with me. We’re going to walk down those stairs, sit in the stupid fuckin’ ceremony room, and watch your scumbag father marry a gold digger. Then we’re going to drink and eat and dance on their dime, have a blast, and then I’m going to come back here, strip you down, and remind you you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”
And like always, when he sets down the law, I agree with a soft, craggy, “Okay, Luke.”
The ceremony is beautiful, as is to be expected. They spared no cost with celebrating the new Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds, from expensive flowers to flutes of the finest champagne to drinks before the ceremony. The vows are beautiful if clearly not written by my father, and Veronica looks... happy.
I almost pity her.
When we enter the reception, the hall has been transformed into a magical fairy garden, full of fragrant flowers which, in the dead of winter, must have cost a pretty penny. A DJ in the corner is playing songs way too young for my mid-sixties father, but Veronica and her friends seem to be enjoying themselves.
The night is going well as they make their rounds from table to table. Luke and I eat and dance, drink and chat with my newfound friends from the night before, giggling over the older attendees attempting to dance to Kanye and Beyoncé or the younger guests struggling to figure out the Electric Slide. It’s a great night.
When my dad and Veronica round our table, my body begins to tense. We, of course, weren’t at the family table, instead in a cold, drafty corner far from any excitement.
“Hello, Cassandra.”
“Hi, Dad. Congratulations. You look stunning, Veronica.” And she does in a huge, princessy ball gown suitable for any cake topper. The top is completely bedazzled, shining in the DJ’s lights, and her jewelry is all glinting diamonds I’m sure were a wedding gift. We found out during last night's dinner Veronica comes from a well-known family with huge connections. It makes me wonder if maybe this will be the marriage that lasts, if only because the connections will be worth enough to at least hide his infidelities.
Veronica smiles at me, a forced thing, before she looks back at the dance floor where her friends are waving to her, urging her to come join them.
“Lucas, nice to see you were able to escort my daughter again.” As if he’s doing some kind of charity work. Luke’s thigh tenses under my hand, and I grip harder. He can’t go all defensive-Luke here. No way.
“I’m honored to be her man.” That’s it. Punch delivered, intent clear. My dad’s thick eyebrows come together in confusion like he can’t put these facts together, despite their conversation yesterday. Because it’s so hard to believe Luke would be here with me. On purpose.