Page 29 of Unhinged Love

Meanwhile, all I can do throughout the day is remember the photos on my phone. I spent plenty of time studying them last night when I was alone again, and it wasn’t long before I had no choice but to take care of a new erection. My balls were drained by the time I fell asleep with a smile on my face, the possibilities of what I unlocked dancing through my head. There is no end to what I can do to her now—how much fun I can have.

If she only loosens up, she could have fun too. Because I’m not about to forget how she came, just like I can’t forget the smell of her pussy on my hand. What a shame I had to wash it away.

Today, there’s more than just school to think about. Rather than going home after class, I drive us into town, where a bridal shop sits next door to a tailor. “Your mom is here already,” I mutter, noting Irene’s presence in the front window of the bridal shop, trying on veils.

Elliana only groans softly before opening the car door. I hear the way she sighs as she steps out—it’s obvious she’s not looking forward to this. That makes two of us, because I’m not looking forward to going next door, where Dad is waiting for our tuxes to be fitted.

This is actually happening. We are actually getting ready for this damn ceremony and reception.

“It would really mean the world to me if you would go along with all of this.” Dad stands in front of a three-way mirror while the tailor takes measurements, and I hang back, less than thrilled. “Are you listening?” he asks.

“Of course. I’m listening.”

“Right, but you’re not hearing me,” he insists. It takes everything I have not to roll my eyes. It’s never enough, is it? He always demands more than I’m ready or willing to give him.

“I don’t know what you want,” I have to admit. “I’m not going to do cartwheels, Dad.”

“I’m not asking you to. But I would like a little bit of camaraderie here.” When I arch an eyebrow at his reflection, he scowls. “You know what I’m saying. You drag your feet. You act like a spoiled baby. You’re casting a shadow over all of this, and it’s making me very unhappy. I’m not asking you to be her best friend. I’m asking you to take me into account, the way I have taken you into account your entire life. She makes me happy. Why isn’t that enough?”

Well, shit. When he puts it that way, I feel around two inches tall.

“I’ve waited a long time for this, and you know that,” Dad continues. “I have never met a woman I wanted to date, much less marry, since your mom left. Finally, I’m ready to take this step. I don’t need you hanging around, all doom and gloom, making things uncomfortable. Are you hearing me? Am I coming through?”

Yes, and as usual, he has to beat a dead horse. “I get it,” I mutter, finally softening when he lowers his brow. “I do get it,” I insist, softer now. “And yeah, of course I want you to be happy. So long as you know this is right. That she is right.”

His face softens, and it makes me a little sick. “I do know. And that’s all I need.”

“Okay, then.” Because that’s as much as I can muster without gagging. Still, he has a point. He has never brought women around—ever—to the point where I was a little worried about him for a while, wondering if he’d completely shut down. He’s still a young man. I didn’t want to see him bury himself.

But if I knew the alternative was Irene? I would’ve been the first one to help fill in the grave once he jumped in.

Somehow, I manage to keep my thoughts to myself. If I’m making him unhappy, I’m sorry for it. It’s not like he’s a bad father—not even close. When Mom left, he had to take on the job of mother and father along with his job, which also demanded a lot of his time. But somehow, he made it work. I never felt like I came in second.

Not until now. But I’m grown up now, too. I don’t need so much of his attention. I guess it’s a good thing for him to start putting his life together… even if he is putting it together with that gold-digging whore.

A gold-digging whore we’re supposed to be meeting for dinner after we finish at the tailor’s. Irene and Elliana are already waiting for us across the street by the time we’re finished, with Irene waving wildly at us as we cross like we couldn’t see her. She looks like she’s bubbling over with excitement. Wonderful. Can’t wait to put up with her through the meal.

Meanwhile, Elliana sits across from her, with the sleeves of her sweater pulled down over her hands and her hair hanging along the sides of her face. I try to catch her eyes as I sit onher right at the square table, but she’s back to her old tricks, deliberately avoiding me, picking at a dinner roll instead.

Dad is blissfully oblivious, leaning down to kiss Irene before taking his seat in the last remaining chair. “So? How did it go, girls?”

“I think you’re going to be one very happy man.” The woman is beaming, practically glowing with excitement. “Isn’t he, Elli?”

Elliana’s head snaps up just long enough for her to nod, then she looks back down at her plate.

Dad wants to be a family man? He’s waited so long for this? I catch his eye, then incline my head toward my stepsister and raise an eyebrow. Finally, he notices her and frowns. “How about you, Elliana? Everything go all right with your dress?”

“Oh, of course she’s grumpy about it.” Irene rolls her eyes dramatically and waves a dismissive hand. “God forbid, she can’t wear one of her lumpy sweaters and cover every square inch of her skin. All I ask for is one day.” She holds up a single finger, narrowing her eyes her daughter’s way.

All Elliana does is stiffen her spine a little. She doesn’t say a word. Barely reacts. Doesn’t look up from her plate. For once, I’m almost proud of her for it. She refuses to let Irene see what her criticism does.

“Of course,” Irene continues, oblivious, “it does seem a little extravagant, spending all that money for one day.”

With a giggle, she wiggles her eyebrows at Dad. “Not that I’ve let that stop me.”

And there goes what was left of my patience, spiraling down the drain. This fucking bitch. How can she sit there and basically brag about spending so much of his money?

“I couldn’t help it. I had to go with the hand-beaded veil. You’ll love it when you see it,” she gushes, closing a hand over Dad’s, resting on the table. “Every time I move my head, it sparkles. It’s to die for, I swear—you won’t believe your eyes.”

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