Chapter 28
28
ROWENA
Eleven weeks pregnant
I get the first proof of life from Adrian as a new text message flashes on my screen late on Thursday afternoon. I read the preview on the lock-screen without even picking up the phone.
Adrian
Hey. I just wanted to give you a heads up. Sam is picking up my mom tomorrow and won’t be available to you in case you needed to go somewhere.
I drop the console in my hands to the floor. Over the past couple of days, I’ve put my irrational, unjustified rage to productive use. After my revenge shopping on Tuesday, I left the fancy boutique and went to a massive toy store, buying every toy even vaguely related to coding I could find, and I’ve been testing them non-stop in my room since then.
I pick up the phone and type a quick reply.
Rowena
Sure, no problem
Pettiness wafts off me in waves.
Adrian
I was wondering, if you’re free tomorrow night, would you like to meet her? Have dinner together?
My heart soars, at least until the next text arrives and the poor organ plummets to the bottom of my ribcage.
Adrian
So it won’t look like you just met each other on Saturday at the party
Rowena
Makes sense. Do you want me to ask Rosa to make something special?
Adrian
No, thank you. I’ve already texted her. She knows what my mom likes
Right. Because his housekeeper knows him better than I do. I roll the bitter notion over in my brain. Adrian shouldn’t be so pervasive in my thoughts. If he wants to ignore me, I should ignore him right back. Or at least not let him distract me from my console idea. He’s the best at putting work first and I should do the same.
I nod to myself with this new resolution and resume testing my toys. I’ve already individuated a few key functionalities missing and ways to improve the teaching experience, making it more fun. And I’m only 15 to 20 per cent bitter that this brilliant strategy was Adrian’s selfless suggestion.
The following evening, I stare at Rosa’s neatly penned instructions—reheat at 375°F for fifteen minutes—as my mind races ahead to tonight’s impending introduction. I’m about to meet Adrian’s mom. My soon-to-be mother-in-law. The woman who birthed the man I’m about to marry… for purely financial reasons.
With a sigh, I slide the tray of lasagna into the oven, setting the timer. Just as I straighten up, my phone buzzes to life, Adrian’s name flashing across the screen. My traitorous heart leaps in my chest. Fucker of an organ.
“Hey,” I answer, aiming for casual and missing by a mile.
“Hey yourself,” he replies, his voice a warm caress that sends tingles dancing down my spine. “Listen, I’m really sorry but I’m stuck at the office. I won’t make it back before Mom arrives.”
“Oh.” My stomach performs an Olympic-worthy gymnastics routine. “So… I’ll be meeting her alone?”
“I feel terrible springing this on you. I know it’s awkward.” He pauses and I can picture him rubbing the back of his neck, his brow furrowed with concern. “You sure you’re okay with this?”
“Oh, totally.” I lean against the kitchen counter for support. “I mean, what’s there to be nervous about? It’s just the woman who carried you in her womb for nine months, who loves you more than anyone else in the world, and who you recently informed that I, a complete stranger, will marry you for your money. No biggie!”
Adrian lets out a surprised laugh and the rich sound wraps around me like a boa constrictor. “Rowena, I promise it won’t be that bad. Mom’s pretty cool about the whole thing. She gets it.”
“Right. Of course she does.” I nod vigorously even though he can’t see me. “I don’t know why I should be worried. We’ll be braiding each other’s hair and gabbing about boy bands in no time.”
“I’m sure. You only got one detail wrong.” His tone is wry but I can hear the smile in his voice. “With my mom, it’s more likely that she’ll try to dye your hair some weird color and discuss that time she met a rock star in the seventies.”
“And by ‘met’ you mean…”
“Things a son shouldn’t know about his mother.”
I laugh.
“But you’ll see, it’s like she lost thirty years overnight when my father passed, she’s a completely different person now from the woman I knew growing up.”
There’s so much affection in his voice that I’m actually jealous of his mother. Could I sink any lower? But after what he told me about how his father was, I can also hear the small tangle of regret and guilt mixed in, so I try to lighten the mood with a joke. “Any woman who partied with rock stars in the seventies and lived to tell the tale has my utter respect.”
“ One rock star,” Adrian specifies. “That I know of.”
The line goes quiet on his side and the awkwardness of us not having spoken in over a week creeps back in. I break the stillness with a hesitant cough. “Well, I should go… get ready for my future mother-in-law’s arrival and all that. See you when you get here?”
“Count on it.” Another weighted pause. “And Rowena? Thank you for doing this. It means a lot to me. I have to go, see you in a few.”
The line goes dead and I lower the phone, staring at the darkened screen. Adrian’s words linger in my mind as I struggle to ignore the pesky fluttering in my chest.
The oven timer startles me out of my slippery thoughts awhile later. I grab a potholder and extract the bubbling lasagna, savoring the heavenly aroma of melted cheese and Italian spices. At least Rosa’s culinary skills will allow me to eat all my stupid feelings tonight.
I’m just setting the garlic bread on the counter when the doorbell chimes, sending my heart racing into overdrive. I smooth my hair, breathing in and out slowly, and march to the front door.
When I swing it open, I’m stunned into momentary silence. The woman standing on the threshold is nothing like the matronly grandmother I’d imagined. Adrian’s mom is tall and slender with a bob of straight hair, the top half a pearly natural white and the bottom half dyed midnight black. Her outfit is simple but stylish and she’s rocking this vintage-chic vibe with a pair of oversized sunglasses perched on her head and wearing tight black pants and boots.
“You must be Rowena,” she says, her tone friendly. “I’m Claire, Adrian’s mother.”
“It’s wonderful to meet you,” I manage, stepping back to let her inside. “Adrian is still at the office, but he should get home soon. Can I get you something to drink in the meantime?”
Claire’s assessing gaze sweeps over me, and I fight the urge to fidget like an errant schoolgirl. “A glass of water, thank you. The air conditioning in the car parched me.”
I smile. “Yeah. Sometimes I think Sam is preparing us for the next ice age. I’ve started carrying a cardigan just for our rides.”
As I pour her water with unsteady hands, I can feel the weight of Claire’s stare between my shoulder blades. The urge to fill the silence is overwhelming.
“I hope the ride was otherwise comfortable,” I say inanely, handing her the glass.
“Yes, Adrian’s cars are so fancy. I’ll never get used to it.” Claire takes a sip, her eyes never leaving mine. “And I wouldn’t have missed this engagement party for the world. It’s not every day one’s only son gets married.”
I almost swallow my tongue. “About that… I know the circumstances are unorthodox?—”
Claire waves a dismissive hand. “No need to explain, my dear. Adrian has already filled me in on the details.”
I blink at her, nonplussed. I’d expected disapproval, maybe even outright hostility. But this simple acceptance is even more unnerving.
Before I can plan a response, the front door swings open and Adrian strides in, his tie loosened and his hair endearingly mussed. The moment he steps into the room, I unconsciously straighten my posture, then our eyes meet for the first time in over a week and the air between us shifts; it’s subtle but undeniable.
He drops his gaze right away.
Coward , I want to scream.
“Mom.” He crosses the room to embrace her. “I see you’ve met Rowena.”
“Yes, indeed.” Claire smiles, cat-like. “And I must say, darling, she’s even lovelier than you described.”
My cheeks heat at the compliment, and I summon a smile as if my fake fiancé hasn’t ghosted me for the past two weeks—if you exclude our lunch last Wednesday. “Dinner’s ready whenever you are.”
Adrian looks at me again, his expression softening into something that makes my helpless heart tumble. “Smells delicious.” He nods a silent thank you at me and turns to Claire, tucking her neatly against his side. “Hungry?”
“Starving.”
They walk together into the dining room, making me feel almost like a third wheel.
But as we settle around the table, I feel more involved. Claire regales us with stories from Adrian’s childhood, painting a picture of a precocious boy with a penchant for mischief and a heart of gold.
“He was always bringing home stray animals.” She laughs, her eyes twinkling with fond memories. “I never knew what I’d find when I opened the front door. Puppies, kittens, even a baby squirrel once.”
Adrian groans good-naturedly. “I couldn’t help it,” he defends himself. “They needed me.”
Tender warmth unfurls in my chest at the thought of a young Adrian, but I also wonder if I’m the stray in this scenario that he brought home to rescue.
Catching the contemplative look on my face, he turns to me with a soft smile. “What about you, S—” He stops and he’d better not fucking dare to call me Sunshine. Adrian coughs. “Any childhood misadventures to share?”
I shrug. “Oh, you know. Just the usual stuff. Skinned knees, questionable fashion choices, the occasional ill-advised haircut.”
“Oh. Do you have pictures?” Adrian smirks.
“Yes, but I’m not showing them to you.”
“Darn.” Adrian mock-pouts, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. “And I was hoping for some grade-A blackmail material.”
“You already have all the dirt you need. ”
Claire chuckles, her gaze bouncing between Adrian and me with the sharpness of a hawk. “You two seem to have a natural rapport. I mean, despite the situation. If I didn’t know, I wouldn’t be able to tell this is all make believe.”
“It’s not, Mom. I told you we’ve become friends.”
Adrian’s words sting and soothe simultaneously. I’m honored that he considers me his friend and hurt that it’s just that. Being near him is a roller coaster of high and lows. I should get off the ride. But every time I reach the finish line, I go for another round instead. Am I repeating the same cycle I had with Liam, of being with a person who isn’t good for me? No. With Adrian, it’s different.
Because where Liam was manipulative, mean, and controlling, Adrian has been nothing other than kind, open, and supportive. In moments like this, I don’t know if I should push things between us or follow his lead and pull away.
The next day, as I stare at my sexy dress hanging in our shared room at the beach resort where we’re hosting the party, I decide I want to push.