A Few Hours Later.My knee wouldn’t stop bouncing.I pressed my palm flat against it, forcing it still, and it started up again within seconds like it had a mind of its own. My fingers found the hem of my dress next, twisting the fabric, smoothing it, twisting it again. I caught my own reflection in the window and barely recognized the woman staring back, jaw tight, eyes too wide, looking like she was on her way to a court hearing instead of dinner.I was doing the exact thing I swore I wouldn’t do.A part of me dreaded meeting his parents. A smaller, more humiliating part of me dreaded what they’d think of me the second I stepped out of that car, whether they’d take one look and decide I wasn’t enough, wasn’t right, wasn’t worth the trouble their son had clearly gone through to bring me here. Funny, really, how quickly I’d gone from refusing to attend to sitting here already dressed for it, already halfway to the mansion, already trapped by a promise I’d let myself believe.Because t
Leer más