Page 83 of Hot Girl Summer

A million questions scream inside my head, but when he pulls me into a hug, they mute themselves before I feel his body stiffen. I can’t find the words to say, but the way he holds me feels forced and insincere. Still, I let him, silently willing him to never let go. But after a few moments, he does.

“I know it’s short notice, but my parents invited me for dinner for their anniversary tonight—"

The fear of rejection threatens to creep up on me again, but I push it away. “That’s okay, I’ll look after Penny. It’s not like I’ve never been here alone before,” I say, that familiar lump of rejection hitting the back of my throat.

He brushes my offer aside. “No, I want you to come with me.”

Relief comes first, followed by a dose of fear. He’s already met my parents, so what’s the harm in meeting his? The sparkle returns to his eyes, telling me all I need to know.

“I have nothing to wear,” I say, mentally scanning the small pile of clothes I brought with me.

“I have a whole wardrobe of my niece Amelia’s clothes upstairs. I’m sure we’ll find you something.”

After an epic movie-style montage, I opt for a sage floral tea dress. I ditch my usual white trainers in favour of heeled sandals, and wear my hair down in loose waves. I'm relieved to find that his niece has a similar style to mine, and the fact that we share the same size makes it easier to find something to wear.

The water on Brighton Marina glistens as we stroll hand in hand along the boardwalk. Prana is a relatively new restaurant and lounge, serving world influenced small plates and cocktails. The waterfront seating area is stunning. Lined with tall, skinny trees dressed in an abundance of leaves and lights, creating the perfect backdrop for a calm and romantic setting. When we arrive, an older couple are quick to spot us. They wave us over. Judging by their smiles and the way they hold themselves; I assume they’re his parents. They look expensive in the same way that Danny does.

My heart races—a mixture of anxiety and the niggling feeling that Danny is only with me physically, and not mindfully. I can’t shake it off, but I plaster on a smile anyway. With a squeeze of my hand and a flash of his dimples, my heart races in a different kind of way.

“Happy Anniversary,” Danny says, giving his mum a kiss on the cheek and his father a handshake. “Is there room for a little one?”

They seem shocked to say the least, but after a beat, a smile spreads on both their faces.

“Well of course. Sit down, dear,” his mum says, gesturing to an opposite chair.

“I’m so sorry to impose. Happy Anniversary. I’m Sophia.”

His parents introduce themselves as Richard and Christine. Danny sits beside me, and I reach across the table, shake both their hands, then sit back down.

“So, you’re the one who’s been stealing all my son’s time?” Christine says, taking a sip of what looks like a martini.

“You’ll have to excuse my wife, she’s already on her third one,” Richard says. He flashes a cheeky wink, and I can tell where his son inherits his charm, but it doesn’t prevent me from feeling uneasy. With a glance towards Danny, I clear my throat and wait for him to say something. I assume he will at least tell them the good news, but he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t want to spoil the festivities.

“So, how long have you two been married?” I ask, trying my best to remain unphased. I instantly thank my job. Small talk is the peak of my comfort zone, and I know I can use it to my advantage to slice the tension in the air.

“Forty-three years,” Richard says.

“That’s incredible, what’s your secret?”

“It’s a formula,” Richard says, lifting his glass and studying the liquid inside. “Like the perfect cocktail, it needs the right amount of communication, independence and romance.”

As the conversation flows, Danny becomes quieter and more distant, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s starting to regret diving headfirst into a new relationship. My smile remains tight-lipped as I nod along, but I can’t deny my discomfort.

“That dress is positively lovely, my dear,” Christine says, before turning towards her husband. “Doesn’t she look wonderful?”

Richard nods.

“I’m sure my daughter-in-law has one just like it.”

“Oh?” I say, expecting her to tell me about Danny’s brother's wife.

“Doesn’t Belle have a dress just like that, Daniel?”

A lump lodges in my throat the moment she says her name. This is beyond awkward.

Richard makes a discreet attempt to silence his wife, but it doesn't go unnoticed. My pulse is racing. I feel ridiculed, like I’m the only person at this table who isn't in on some private joke.

Surprise, Sophia. You've been fooled again.

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