“And I thought it was the groom’s job to have a meltdown,” Daniel mumbled as we filed out the door.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I hissed, “just fucking smile and nod and sayI do.”
The ceremony went down without a hitch. People stared holes into my suit for a few minutes, but I didn’t give them the satisfaction of reacting to their surprise of seeing me here. Once those church doors opened and the bride walked in, I was forgotten anyway. Natalia was dolled up to the nines, glossy brown curls, a thick layer of makeup, and a dress the size of a tent. She shot me a tight smile when she spotted me before her eyes returned to her new husband.
I managed to avoid people right after the ceremony, staying on the sidelines until it was time to head to Petya’s for the reception. The house had been crawling with vendors for days. It was the perfect opportunity for my uncle to show off. Irina had told me that the wedding cake was apparently covered in edible gold and decorated with diamonds.
I just parked my car on the side of the driveway and walked a few steps to find enough signal to call Cordelia, when the ear-piercing screech of tires stopped me. I whirled around in time to see a bright yellow Lamborghini slam into my car. Only a few meters from where I’d been standing seconds before.
My car folded in on itself, crushed between the side of the house and Luka’s car.
What the actual fuck?
People were yelling and running, and I started for Luka’s car - but then his door swung open. He stepped out, completelyunbothered, laughing his ass off while clutching that damn flask to his chest.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Luka still laughed, wiping tears from his eyes as he spotted me. “It’s not,” he gasped through his laughter, “it’s not that bad.”
“You totaled my car.”
He slammed his car door shut and waved the flask towards my fuming car. “It’s not your car, is it? You let your girlfriend pay for everything.”
“Fuck!” I swung myself over the crumpled hood of his Lamborghini, scrambling to get to the trunk. Because the carwasCordelia’s. And so was the teapot in the back.
“It’s not even a nice car. I can get you a better one.”
“Keep your stolen scrap metal,” I grunted, trying to stem the trunk open. The car frame was so bent out of shape, the handle didn’t even budge.
“What? Now you won’t even accept an apology car?”
I ignored him. I wasn’t going to argue with his drunk ass - and I wasn’t going to accept a stolen car, only to risk being pulled over with Cordelia in the back. The trunk didn’t give, so I jerked open the back door and climbed onto the backseat. It was covered in glass from the broken windows. Luka had managed to do a fucking number on this thing.
I tipped one of the backrests forward, giving me an opening to the trunk.
“Shit. Get out of there, bro.” Luka’s hand wrapped around my ankle, and I kicked back hard and fast, connecting with the soft tissue of his stomach. He groaned and his grip on my leg disappeared.
The cardboard box was half-flattened. There was no way the teapot had survived that. Fuck. I still hugged it tightly as I scrambled out of the car.
Luka sat in the dirt next to it.
I put some distance between me, the car, and my cousin, then set the box down on the ground and carefully opened it - as if one wrong move could shatter the teapot more.
Half the porcelain was still intact, clinging to its round shape - the other half had been decimated to shards. While I could have still glued those pieces together, the small music contraption at the bottom was folded up like the car itself, small cogs and springs poking out the sides of the warped metal.
“What’s that?” Luka laid a hand on my shoulder and leaned over me.
“Take your hands off me,” I grunted and shook him off.
“Bro, I just wanna see what you’re making such a fuss about.”
His hand was back on my shoulder, and this time, he didn’t get a warning. I grabbed him by the collar and I hauled him over me.
Luka landed in the gravel with a loudoomph.
And it wasn’t enough.
Fucking Luka.