Chapter 26 A Grander Gesture?
A GRANDER GESTURE?
CASSIDY
It’s been a couple weeks since Ren changed my name without asking me. While things haven’t been perfect—a distinct impossibility, if you ask Jessica—things have been good.
Ren, being the annoyingly best husband ever, has gone out of his way at every turn to make things good for me. For us.
It finally got to the point where I had to ask him to take it down a notch because the amount of effort he was putting in wasn’t sustainable.
And just because I’m pregnant and an emotional wreck doesn’t mean I’m automatically exempt from personal accountability and a certain percentage of the household chores.
It still took a couple heartfelt conversations before he truly understood where I was coming from, and I was relieved when he actively worked on putting his own stubbornness aside and acknowledged that my being pregnant didn’t make me helpless.
Unless I want to be helpless, but that would be determined on a case-by-case basis mostly led by my hormones. And hunger. And tiredness. I’d let him know.
Ren went off to practice this morning, and I did some light housework in preparation for Issa, Jessica, and Carolina coming over for lunch and gossip.
Everything seemed normal until after lunch when, suddenly, the ladies wanted to play some weird game of dress up. Now, I’m not sure what the hell is going on, but everyone is acting suspicious.
“Okay,” I finally state plainly. “Why are you all acting so weird?”
Three sets of eyes stare back at me then look between each other. Finally, Jessica responds, “We’re not acting weird.”
“Try again.”
Issa sighs loudly. “It’s nothing, Cass. Just a little surprise for later.”
“I hate surprises.”
And I’m not kidding. I hate them. Loathe them.
“Too fucking bad,” Carolina retorts, giving me a small shove in the direction of the vanity she just got up from.
I twist out of the way, make a beeline for the door, but Jessica cuts me off. “Come on Cassidy, don’t be like that.”
“I will be like that,” I answer sharply. “I’ll give you three a free pass because I’ve never explained my aversion to surprises, but let this be the one and only time I have to say this.”
I pause, wait until they’re all looking at me before adding, “I truly detest surprises. There is no such thing as a good surprise in my mind. No amount of arguing will change my opinion on this.”
“If we tell you, do you promise to act surprised?”
“No.”
Carolina laughs, Issa huffs, and Jessica groans. Then Jessica says, “But if we tell you what the surprise is will you go?”
“No.”
“Goddamn it, Cassidy,” Issa mutters, but her words aren’t angry, just exasperated. Shaking her head, she pulls out her phone, tapping furiously before putting the phone back in her pocket.
Seconds later, my phone chimes and I glare at Issa as I retrieve it, opening the message app.
Ren: You’re cordially invited to a party. Tonight. With me.
Cassidy: I don’t like parties.
Ren: But you like me enough to ignore that fact and go anyway?
Cassidy: Maybe.
Ren:
That bastard.
I turn back to Carolina who’s still standing next to the vanity. “Why wouldn’t he just tell me we had to go?”
“Because it was supposed to be a surprise,” Carolina explains patiently, motioning to the empty chair in front of the mirror. “And he wanted to make sure you had help getting ready hence us being here to badger you.”
I walk over and then scowl at my reflection as I cross my arms over my ever-expanding chest. “I’m not going.”
Issa appears in the mirror, her glare directed right at me. “After all this, you most certainly will be going.”
“Or what?”
Issa purses her lips, her arms crossing over her chest the same as mine. “Or you’ll hurt Ren’s feelings, that’s what.”
Shit.
“That’s not fair,” I cry with a stomp of my foot.
“Welcome to marriage,” Carolina retorts. “Everyone thinks the women are the sensitive ones but turns out that’s not the case at all.”
Sighing, I plop down in the chair like the lump I feel like, then stick my tongue out at my reflection. The girls are standing around me, obviously waiting for the green light to do whatever it is they’ve been planning. Sighing, I mutter, “Well get on with it then.”
Several hours later, I’m walking down the stairs, hair curled, makeup meticulously applied, all decked out in a dress similar to the one I got married in. Ren is waiting, looking ridiculously hot in a dark suit, perfectly fitted to his tall, broad frame.
“You’re as beautiful as ever, Cassidy,” he says softly, holding what appears to be a small flower in his hand. “Thank you for being my date tonight.”
“No,” I respond. “You are.”
He cocks his head, his brows lowering as he thinks over my strange response, and all I can do is giggle nervously. Sighing, he ignores my words, instead stepping closer and reaching for my hand. Lifting it, he takes the flower he was holding and secures it to my wrist.
Raising my arm higher, I inspect it closely, feeling slightly awestruck. “You got me a corsage?”
He shrugs, suddenly unable to look me in the eyes as he says, “Seemed fitting I should get you flowers, and figured it would be nice if you could take them with you.”
I sidle up next to him, placing my hand on his chest as I intentionally seek out his gaze. “Thank you.”
He seems surprised by my words but only nods in response, taking my hand and leading me out to our waiting car. It takes us a bit of time to reach our destination, but the ride is made in a companionable silence I’m only just beginning to get used to.
It’s comforting, though, leaving a residual warmth long after it has passed.
We pull up in front of a moderately swanky building, coming to a stop at the main entrance. Ren exits the car, turns and offers his hand to assist me, which I take gratefully, then we enter the building, hand-in-hand.
The main room has people mingling from one end to the other. For a moment, I get nervous. Other than the hockey arena, I’ve never been comfortable in large crowds, and for a moment I have to focus on not turning tail and running.
Ren’s grip on my hand tightens, and he turns in front of me, lowering his head so he can whisper, “It’s not as many people as it looks. And most of them you know.”
He holds my gaze until I nod, then continues through the doorway, where he stops. And that’s when I see it.
First, the main focal point once you enter the room—a ginormous portrait of the two of us at our wedding. Beside it, a portrait of me reaching, Ren’s hand just meeting mine.
I never asked for an explanation on the type of party we’d be attending together, but for some reason, it never occurred to me that the party might be for us. About us.
Glancing at him over my shoulder, I catch him watching me. He’s smiling, but the tension around his eyes indicates an underlying nervousness. So I sidle close and ask, “You did all this?”
“Yes,” he responds slowly, his brow now creased with worry. “Is it okay?”
I’m not gonna cry.
I am not gonna cry.
I am. Not. Going. To. Cry.
Sniffling, I nod. I am genuinely surprised, but not in a bad way. The now familiar ache in my chest blooms, crests, overflows, and I’m left choking on a jumble of feelings and emotions I’m just now recognizing for what they truly are.
Affection. Adoration.
Soul-altering love.
Lost for words, I wrap my arms around his back, pulling him toward me and pressing my face against his suit jacket. His arms come around me, supporting me more than he likely realizes, his head lowering until his lips press against my neck.
“We don’t have to stay,” he murmurs into my ear. “Once the alcohol starts flowing, no one will even notice if we sneak off.”
“We can stay as long as you want,” I respond quickly, not wanting him to rush out of here just because he’s worried about me. He has every right to want a party, even if I have an aversion to them.
This must be part of that compromise thing everyone’s always going on about. Smiling, I step back, fixing the lapels of his jacket, as I search for something to say. He’s watching me, amusement dancing in his eyes, so I pat him on the chest and mutter, “I have to pee.”
Not waiting for a response, I turn tail and hustle back the way we came, certain I saw a bathroom sign somewhere that way. I wasn’t lying; I do have to pee, but the timing of it likely seems suspicious to him.
I get my business done in record time, taking a moment to smooth my dress and my hair before returning to the party. I locate Ren on the far side, deep in conversation with his parents.
Shit. His parents.
Not wanting to intrude on a private conversation, I scan the room for a familiar face, immediately relieved when I locate Issa at a table not far from where Ren is standing.
I head directly toward her, so intent on making it from point A to point B, I don’t notice Ren has moved until he steps in front of me.
I stop just short of barreling into him, and then do my best to make my face a lot less horrified as I realize his parents are with him.
Ren wraps an arm around me, his eyes searching mine as he asks, “You okay?” to which I just manage a rather frantic nod, pasting on my best interpretation of a warm and inviting smile.
He quirks a brow at me, obviously unsure if he should believe me, but after a moment he presses his palm against my lower back, turns back to his parents and says, “Mom. Dad. May I present to you, Cassidy Rafferty.”
My warm and inviting smile falls, and I whip my attention back to him, scowling. “Don’t forget the Logan.”
Ren’s mother laughs then pats Ren on the arm as she says, “Forcing it won’t make it happen. Just ask your dad.”
I frown as Ren’s dad chuckles, obviously enjoying their little inside joke. “There’s still time left, Sylvie.”
“I did give permission for Rafferty to be on my headstone.”
“That hardly seems appropriate,” Ren responds, a look of horror on his face. Then he turns to me and explains, “Mom never changed her name. And from what I understand, she never will.”