Page 20 of Crystal Iris
“Lower your expectations,” I say, handing Aaron my gift.
“You forget we’ve been exchanging gifts for over a decade. My expectations are as low as possible,” he says with a smile.
“Asshole,” I mutter, kicking him.
His mother glances at me, clearly disapproving of my foul language.
“I was looking into getting one of these,” Aaron says, thanking me.
“Really?” I knew it; I had asked his secretary for recommendations. The espresso machine I picked has more functions than the car we drove here.
I come back from the bathroom to find three presents by my chair. The first one holds an expensive wallet from Maria. The second, an engraved pen from Don. The third, chocolates from his cousins. I’m just finishing my thanks when Aaron walks over with a box.
“Aaron, another gift?”
“This one’s for both of us.”
I open the lid to find our wedding invitations. I pick one up; the paper is incredibly delicate and beautiful. A pile of elegant pale blue envelopes sits on the side. I had given the wedding planner, Chiara, free rein to decide on these things after getting overwhelmed by the options and constant decisions.
“Do you like them?” Aaron asks, still waiting for my response.
“Of course. I didn’t realize they were already here.”
“They sent them here by mistake, actually.”
“Oh, I see.” Something tells me it’s no accident that his mother received the box instead of us.
The twins scream with excitement when they open Aaron’s gift to them. It turns out everyone gives better gifts than I do.
With nothing else to open, we move on to breakfast. The table is filled with a buffet of omelettes, pastries, yogurt, andfruit. His parents sit across from me, and from the looks on their faces, it’s clear they’re still waiting for a big surprise from their son—as if the wine bottles we gave them were just a tease. Despite of the delicious food, my mouth tastes sour at the thought. I didn’t grow up that way. Even with my parents gone, I had enough time with them to understand how sad that kind of greed is.
“Are you done unpacking, Iris?” His mom sips her coffee.
“I haven’t… moved yet.” I search for Aaron.
“She’s still packing, Mom.”
“Oh, it’s been months, no?” She acts surprised.
“I’ve been… busy. With work,” I tell her.
“She is, after all, a Harvard professor, Maria,” Don says, winking at me. For fuck’s sake, I don’t need his help. I am, after all,a Harvard professor.
Don and Maria were never on board with their son dating the poor, messed-up girl whose dad disappeared. To them, I was broke and broken, a headache that needed to go away. I was sixteen when his mom told me, “You’re holding my son back. You’ll never make him happy.” She even offered me money to break up with Aaron. He had forgiven his parents, but those words still hurt. Even now, after all these years, I can tell they still look at me the same way—a liability.
A while later, Aaron finds me reading a book in bed and sits next to me.
“Can I hide in here with you?” he asks.
“I’m not… sure.”
“I’m ready to leave whenever you are.”
I put my book down. “That might break the record.”
He gives me a tired smile. “Two more days. I don’t know if I can make it.”
“You can’t make it? How do you think I feel? Thank goodness for Peyton and the kids. At least your mom has someone else to…”
