Chapter 4
stella
I’ve done a lot of half-baked shit in my life, but this takes the cake.
My mom is the first to exit the cab. Her bright, coral dress flows behind her as she runs toward me with an ear-to-ear smile. I let go of Jonas, extending my arms for her, only to be bypassed. Mariana Clarke has no idea she’s squeezing a complete stranger right now.
“I’m sorry. I’m a hugger, and I’ve been waiting so long to meet you,” my mom all but squeals as she rocks from side to side.
She pulls back, but Jonas keeps his hands endearingly on her shoulders.
“Muy guapo.” She smiles, wiggling her eyebrows, and if I wasn’t in shock, I would bury my face in my hands.
“Thank you. It’s nice to finally meet you, too,” he replies without missing a beat. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Really? Stella is always so secretive. She keeps everything very hush-hush. Callum!” she yells over her shoulder without taking a breath. “Callum, this is Stella’s secret boyfriend, Aiden.”
Oh shit.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Callum.” My dad smiles, extending his hand to the man beside me.
“It’s very nice to meet you.” Jonas dips his head with a polite smile before tucking his hand in his pocket and wrapping his arm around me. “Aiden is actually my middle name. I usually just go by Jonas.”
My mom looks at me like I’ve intentionally set her up for failure. I open my mouth to try and explain, but I’ve dug myself a pretty sizable hole already. Any further and I’ll be at the center of the earth by dinner.
Thank god for my sisters, Lilianna and Isabelle, who are trailed by their husbands and my nieces. They squeeze past our mom and all but tackle me down to the tiled floor.
Their hold on me tightens, causing my heart to swell right along with it, and I match their squeals of delight.
“We’ve missed you!” Isabelle pats my hair down, and they both step back, only to look me up and down.
I love my sisters dearly, but being the baby of the family comes with its ups and downs.
The downs include—but are not limited to—being treated like I’m made of glass and too young to know any better.
It’s part of the reason I haven’t been able to bring myself to tell anyone the real Aiden cheated on me.
A round of introductions between Isabelle and her husband, Marco, who was able to pull himself away from his work phone for the length of a handshake, takes place.
My other brother-in-law, Lucas, and my twin nieces, Maya and Ella, are jumping up and down with excitement to meet my boyfriend, but it’s a weary Lily who has my nerves on edge.
Ever since I started working with high schoolers, I haven’t kept a social media account.
Something about crafty teens being able to find my personal life made me delete pretty much every app on my phone.
Lily thought I was crazy, but three years later, I don’t miss it at all.
The only way my family or friends see anything from my personal life is when I intentionally send them photos.
Needless to say, in the six months Aiden and I dated, we never really did anything ‘send this to the group-chat’ worthy.
So I know Lily’s skepticism isn’t about how Jonas doesn’t look like Aiden, but rather how I’ve had my own concerns about him over the last few months.
“You two are all checked in?” my mom asks, her eyes darting back and forth between Jonas and me.
“We sure are,” Jonas pipes up. “We got the honeymoon suite.”
“Fancy.” My mom shimmies her shoulders, eyeing us, and I know the wheels in her head are already turning from dating to engagement.
Poor momma.
“Alright, well, Lily booked us a reservation at one of the resort restaurants. Which one was it again, mija?”
“Luna Del Mar.”
“Ahh.” She points a finger in the air. “So we’ll get checked in, settle into our rooms, and then meet you for dinner at seven?”
“Sounds good.” Jonas’s grin never falters, but his pointed eyes cut to mine. It’s now that I realize I’ve been standing here like a ventriloquist dummy for the last ten minutes.
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Yeah. We’ll see you at dinner.”
My family makes a train through the lobby, everyone dragging two suitcases behind them, and when I’m finally pulled from my stupor, it’s by an employee waving down my new boyfriend.
“Mr. and Mrs. Jonas, would you like a ride to your suite?” he asks, motioning to the golf cart behind him.
Jonas reaches for my suitcase, and the man grabs the rest.
“Darling.” Jonas’s voice drips in sarcasm, but his full, perfect smile is undeniable as he holds his hand out for me.
I roll my eyes but take it and climb into the front seat.
The ride to the honeymoon suite is further than I anticipated, but I suppose it makes sense. We pass an adults-only pool just before an open grass area where they appear to be setting up for some sort of event.
The man—Rico, as Jonas and his yappy mouth took no time to find out—grabs our bags, opens the door to our suite, and closes it with a chipper, “enjoy your stay.”
And now I’m left standing alone, beside a near stranger, staring down at only one bed.