Page 49 of The Man I Once Hated

“No, Alex, he hasn’t proposed. And seriously, take a breath,” I say with a soft laugh.

“Can’t be far off,” Zoey says, looking at me curiously. “He’s taking you to meet his parents, after all.”

Alex gasps again, but this time Zoey is ready for it and presses a finger to her lips to quiet her down. It works, and whatever overreaction she was building up, deflates out of her in a long breath.

Once it’s safe for me to respond, I do just that. “I’m not meeting his parents, Zo. He’s just asked me to come to dinner with him at the house.”

“Where his parents live…” she says with slow deliberation, like she’s explaining something to a child.

“Yes, but not to meet them. Just to have dinner at the place where they live.” I almost cringe with how ridiculous it sounds, even to me.

But thankfully, both Zoey and Alex are cool enough to not drag the topic on any longer. Either that, or they get the sense that I’m not going to budge from my reasoning. Whatever it is, I’m glad to get back to picking out my outfit.

I go over to my closet with a renewed sense of anxiety now that Zoey’s gotten into my head about the whole thing with his parents. This is Edward we’re talking about. We haven’t been on a date. He can’t be taking me there to meet them. Can he?

* * *

“It’s just dinner,Cara. Can we please drop it?” Edward asks as we come up to the front door of his parents’ mansion.

My nerves haven’t subsided. If anything, they’ve only gotten worse the closer I get to facing them.

“Yes, but if it’s more than that, I’d like to know.” He stares me down and I use the reflection in his eyes to fix my hair.

He bristles in agitation and turns away from me while I bite back a laugh. He’s so easily riled up, but works hard not to lose his temper with me. It’s cute.

We were announced at the gates so there’s no need to knock, just to wait until the butler opens the door, I suppose. As the seconds tick by, I notice Edward’s own nerves start to show.

“The only reason you’re here is to be a buffer between my father and me,” he speaks under his breath. “He can be… a bit much.”

I even my breathing, working hard to ease the spike in anxiety that clamps down on my chest. Because that’s more than I expect from him and don’t want to ruin the moment of vulnerability by saying the wrong thing. I’ve picked up on tension between Edward and his dad but he’s always painfully private about it. He takes calls in another room or out of earshot, and shoots down any questions I have about his family, unless it involves his grandmother.

“A buffer, got it.” That’s all I say, and it seems to be the right choice.

Edward glances over at me and smiles through what looks like a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Cara.”

The sound of a loud latch cuts off whatever response I have and the giant door to the mansion swings open lazily. I was only kidding about the butler, but a man in a pristine black suit and white gloves stands there, smiling broadly at us.

“Master Edward.” He gives a slight bow.

Edward walks in, slapping him congenially on the shoulder. “Looking younger every day, Wilson.”

Wilson waves off the compliment with an air of humility. “I’ll take the lady’s coat? You can join the others in the dining room.”

I’ve never had my coat taken before, and feel like I’ve slipped through some kind of wormhole. Having Edward lead me through the extravagant hallways and decadent rooms of the mansion only makes the feeling more intense. He comes to a stop when we get to a set of double doors–intricately carved like all the others, with shining brass handles.

“Is everything okay?” I curl my little finger around his but he doesn’t return the gesture.

He’s like a stone statue, staring straight ahead. His lips move silently as though he were praying, but I know better. I get really still and listen harder. It isn’t a prayer, just the words ‘Keep it cool’ that he’s repeating over and over again.

I replace my little finger with my whole hand, sliding my fingers between his as I squeeze down gently. He finally acknowledges me, and turns my way.

“I’m a great buffer,” I smile reassuringly. “I’ve been known to buff better than the rest, back in my day.”

Edward laughs softly, giving my hand a squeeze before letting go. His demeanor shifts one last time as he pushes through the large doors and saunters into the dining room. In a blink, he’s become the Edward I’m used to seeing at Suave when he’s showboating with his friends. Untouchable, unaffected.

“Edward, darling.” I assume it’s his mother who greets him with open arms.

The only other woman is a sweet, old lady seated at the head of the table. On the other end is a version of Edward in about thirty years, an unwavering scowl etched into his lined features. The father.

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