MasukLeonel ~~~ “You’re going to propose to Evelyn?” I blurt out the second I return to the limo. I’d thought of how I was going to confront Oliver all the while I waited for my cake. When Mariam popped her head out of the kitchen and told me it’s best I go home while she finishes, I didn’t think twice before bolting for the limo. I need to know what the hell is going on. The moment I ask, Oliver’s usual mischievous glance falters, and his golden eyes skitter to the velvet door like he’s planning some great escape. My heart riots, “Answer the question, Oliver.” He shuts his eyes and sighs, “Mariam told you I visited huh?” There is absolutely no way. “Oliver Carter? Marriage? You?” I’m basically wheezing out each word, but so would anyone else if they found out their daredevil PR assistant who could never be tied down to one place wants to tie himself down for life. He turns back to me, an unusually serious look on his face, “Oliver Carter. Marriage. Me.” “What? Oliver
Ava ~~~ “Mrs Sinclair, you have to keep still!” Lynette exasperates, waving pins for my dress around as if she intends to stab me with them if I keep squirming. But I can’t help it. The dress she’s squeezed me into gives me barely any room to breathe, and it’s only when I shift that I’m able to find a few angles that allow me to exhale. The moment she catches me huffing out air however, she gasps like I killed her sister and immediately pins any loose fabric on the dress. “Skin tight to highlight every one of those sexy curves!” She gushed when I started wheezing. Safe to say there has never been a dress more skin-tight than the one she’s making for me. Making on my body. I don’t know what I expected from Lynette Selsar, but I was silly to think that the woman who made the queen of Spain’s dress was going to simply have me pick from a bunch of gowns. I described to her what I would like ( lace sleeves, a low neckline, a long train and flowers on my veil) and let her
Ava ~~~ Riley wants to confess to the judge? Is stupidity like a trait we inherited from our father? If she’s afraid, Riley doesn’t show it. I on the other hand, have gasped at least 3 times since she said what she wants to do. There is no way Riley is going to stand before the judge and not get some punishment. I push past Celeste till I’m right in front of her, “Are you crazy?” “Duh.” She replies. I have the sudden urge to hit sense into her, but before I can act on it, Bella says, “We didn’t discuss this at the house.” Riley’s blue-green eyes slide to Bella. I turn as well to find her looking… worried? Is Bella actually showing her concern right now? Like… on her face? Maybe Jaxon actually managed to shoot me and I’m having some sort of hallucination. “If we’d discussed it would you have let me come, Bells?” Riley asks, her British accent thickening. “Of course I wasn’t going to let you come and do something so stupid, Riles.” Celeste makes a gagging noise,
Leonel ~~~ I think a good determiner of how fucked up your life truly is is if you need a lecture from a baker who hasn’t seen you since your last failed marriage. But Mariam doesn't seem like she’s about to give me a lecture—she doesn't even seem capable of giving lectures. The only thing I’ve ever watched her do is carve raw dough to look like a woman's sculpture in less than five minutes and ice some cupcakes until they literally resembled a rainbow. She’s talented, no doubt, but does that talent extend to marriage advice? She smiles at me from the other side of the wobbly table as if she has no idea where to start with me. “Do you want bread?” She asks politely. “Bread?” I question, creasing my brows. It’s not an odd question for a baker, but it’s an odd question for the situation. Well, I suppose everything is sort of odd in this situation, “I would love some bread, sure.” Her soft smile widens, and with one clap of her hands, two women barge into the seating are
Leonel ~~~ “She’s lying, obviously she’s lying!” Oliver cries. I know he means well, but listening to him exclaim over and over that Raphael might not be my child is giving me a deadly headache. I rub my temples and sink further into the limo seat. At this point, it may as well swallow me whole. “There was a picture, Oliver. The boy looked-”I pause, remembering his smiling face turned away from the camera. Perfect. He looked perfect.Those golden curls and curious grey eyes are ingrained deep in my head, no matter how much I want to claw them out. He’s already found a home in me. “-the boy looked like mine.” I finish instead. I know for a fact that Oliver will not care to hear about how incredible I think he is. He huffs out as if he’s the one who knocked up his ex-wife, and mutters, “I need to text Eve.” “Yes, because I’m sure your baker girlfriend will have something necessary to add to this conversation.” I instantly regret the words that just tumbled out of
Ava ~~~ Celeste’s excitement at seeing her daughter is not reciprocated. Bella crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes at her mother. How much of Celeste’s threat had she heard? Enough for her to step back when her mother moves forward with open arms. All the joy and anticipation of seeing Bella and Riley have been sucked out of the breezy morning air. In its place, the hostility radiating out of Bella has me drowning. I can only imagine how it feels for Celeste who it's directed at. “Bella, my baby, where have you been?” Celeste inquires, chirping as if she can’t sense the quiet resentment her daughter is emitting. “Hello, mother,” Bella says stoically. Her eyes dart to me and her voice dramatically softens as she asks, “Are you okay, Ava?” My heart warms and I start moving closer, but Celeste shoots a hand out to stop me. “Is she okay?” Celeste asks, incredulous, “You haven’t asked about your mother and you’re asking if she’s okay? What happened to family?” “Ava i







