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Lucian
Eight years ago …
I gulp back the entire glass of champagne and signal the waiter for another, while my buddy, Sebastian, does his best to piece together a shit best man speech. The only time he’s ever met the bride was at my graduation party, when she snubbed him, so I’ve gotta give him some credit for not making her out to look like a total bitch.
“And I wish you a long and happy life together. Cheers.”
With his official toast, I polish off my fourth glass. At this rate, I’ll be too trashed for the first dance. Maybe someone else will fill my place for it.
I catch sight of my father, standing off with Mayor Boyd, both of them laughing. It makes sense why Boyd would be delighted, marrying into power and wealth, but I haven’t quite figured out the payoff for my father, aside from strapping me down with domesticated life. Perhaps that’s the only payoff, but I’ve known my father long enough to recognize he doesn’t do anything that isn’t wholly for his own gain.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Amelia sits beside me, not having said much for most of the night, aside from the templated vows the two of us memorized this morning. “Your mother did such a nice job pla
There’s a dash of animosity in her tone, though subtle, as she’s cu
“I’m sure she paid someone to take care of the details.” It’s a chip at her pride, but I’m too drunk to care.
“Have you given any thought to the honeymoon?” She sips a glass of water, and I reckon everyone at this dog and pony show knows she’s knocked up because of it.
“What’s the point? You’re already carrying my child, aren’t you?”
The flinch of her eyes betrays the indifference she’s struggling to hold in place like a mask that’s too small for her face. “I understand this whole thing isn’t what either one of us would have chosen. But the least you can do is pretend to enjoy the evening.”
I lift yet another glass of champagne. “I’m working on that.”
As the night rolls on, I stumble my way through the first dance and the sloppy cake cutting, walking off before she has the opportunity to smash the twenty-thousand dollar cake my mother ordered in my face. By the time it’s over, I feel like I’ve been strung up by my briefs most of the night, my ass hanging out.
With the music blasting through the atrium, I stumble my way out into the hallway, my brain swimming in at least three bottles worth of champagne.
“Lucian.” The sound of Amelia’s voice is fine china scraping against ground glass.
I want to claw it out of my skull.
“Lucian, wait.”
On unsteady feet, I pause halfway down the hall, while she scurries to catch up to me. It’s only because she’s the pregnant bride of the evening that I give her the time.
“I’ll help you to our bed.”
“Our bed? No. There is no our bed. You sleep in your bed. I sleep in my bed.”
Tears well in her eyes as she turns away from me. “It was a surprise to me, as well. I didn’t do this to trap you.”
“Then how th’fuck did my father know about it b’fore me? Huh? How th’fuck did your father know b’fore me?”
“It was wrong of me not to tell you right away. I should have. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry? Th’only thing I’m sorry about is sticking my dick in you.” It’s then I notice the music has cut out, and I turn to see a crowd of guests standing outside the atrium.
The potent fog of alcohol tamps down the flare of irritation burning inside of me.
Amelia breaks into tears, and runs off down the hall.
And once again, I stand here looking like the villain.