5.THE INVITATION
1172 Words
“I just want you to be comfortable.”
Elise smiled sweetly after saying it, but there was nothing sweet in her eyes.
The living room suddenly felt too hot.
I stared at her without blinking.
Comfortable?
Was that what this was now?
A polite way of telling me I no longer belonged around them?
My mother sighed softly from the couch. “Elise is only thinking about your feelings, Rosalie.”
I looked at her slowly.
“My feelings?”
“Of course,” she replied carefully. “Everything happened very suddenly. We understand this situation may be difficult for you.”
Difficult.
I almost laughed.
Not heartbreaking.
Not humiliating.
Just difficult.
Elise crossed her arms lightly. “Nobody is forcing you to be my bridesmaid.”
“But you asked me yesterday,” I replied quietly.
“Well…” she shrugged. “Things change.”
I felt something twist painfully inside my chest.
My father finally turned from the window.
“Rosalie,” he said calmly, “if this wedding is emotionally affecting you this much, maybe taking some distance would be better.”
Distance.
From my own family?
I swallowed hard.
“So now I’m the problem?”
“No one said that,” my mother replied quickly.
“But everyone is looking at me like I did something wrong.”
That silence hurt more than words.
Elise suddenly stood up from the couch and walked closer to me.
“Look, Rosalie,” she said softly, “I’m trying to understand you, I really am. But showing up drunk after disappearing all night…”
“I was heartbroken!” I snapped before I could stop myself.
The room fell silent immediately.
Even my own breathing sounded loud.
Elise’s eyes widened slightly.
Then softened.
“Oh,” she whispered. “So it really is about Julian.”
I closed my eyes briefly.
I shouldn’t have said that.
But I was tired.
Tired of pretending I wasn’t bleeding inside.
“You knew,” I said quietly, opening my eyes again. “Didn’t you?”
Elise frowned carefully. “Knew what?”
“That he was my ex.”
Silence.
Too much silence.
Then she sighed dramatically.
“Rosalie…”
“You knew,” I repeated.
My father’s face tightened. “Enough.”
“No,” I said quickly, looking at Elise. “Answer me.”
Elise folded her arms.
“Yes,” she finally admitted. “I knew.”
Something inside me cracked again.
“And you still dated him?”
Her jaw tightened slightly. “He chose me.”
That one hurt.
God.
That one hurt badly.
“You’re my sister,” I whispered.
“And I fell in love,” she replied coldly. “What was I supposed to do? Reject him because he dated you first?”
I stared at her.
This didn’t even feel like Elise anymore.
Or maybe this was who she always was.
My mother stood up immediately. “Okay, enough. Nobody is fighting today.”
“No one is fighting,” Elise said lightly, never taking her eyes off me. “I’m just being honest.”
I laughed softly.
A broken sound.
“Honest?”
“Yes.”
“You stole my boyfriend.”
Elise’s face hardened instantly.
“I didn’t steal anything. Julian left you before he came to me.”
That sentence hit like a slap.
I looked away before they saw my eyes filling again.
I couldn’t cry here.
Not in front of them.
Not again.
“I’m done talking to you guys,” I muttered.
Then I turned and walked away before anyone could stop me.
“Rosalie!” my mother called.
I ignored her.
I walked upstairs quickly and slammed my bedroom door shut behind me.
Silence.
Finally,
I leaned against the door heavily and covered my face with my hands.
Why did it still hurt this much?
Why did every word from Elise feel like she was peeling my skin open slowly?
My chest tightened painfully.
I was still in my depressed mood when my phone vibrate
Buzz.
My eyes slowly moved toward the bed where my phone was.
Could it be the same number that called earlier.
A strange feeling crept up my spine.
Slowly, I walked toward the bed and picked it up.
One new message.
We need to talk about your proposal.
My stomach dropped instantly.
Proposal?
Oh God.
The club.
The stage.
The man.
The deep voice.
“Your fiancé.”
So it was all true
I sat down slowly on the edge of the bed.
“No way…” I whispered.
Another message appeared immediately.
I’m beginning to think you don’t remember last night.
Heat rushed into my face.
I remembered enough.
Enough to know I embarrassed myself.
Enough to remember his eyes.
His voice.
The way he held my waist.
I swallowed hard and typed quickly.
Who exactly is this?
The reply came almost instantly.
Alessandro De Luca.
My breathing stopped.
I had actually hoped it wasn’t him.
Anybody but him.
I stared at the message for a full ten seconds.
Then another appeared.
You asked me to be your fiancé.
I covered my face immediately.
“Oh my God…”
What kind of stupid thing had I done?
I typed fast.
I was drunk.
I blinked at the screen.
Was this man insane?
People say things when they’re drunk.
Another reply came.
Drunk words are usually honest ones.
My heart skipped strangely.
No.
No, absolutely not.
I typed again.
Look, whatever happened last night was a mistake.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Then it appeared again.
I don’t like the word mistake.
I stared at the message.
Something about the way he texted felt exactly like him.
Controlled.
Calm.
Dangerous.
Another message came.
Meet me today.
I frowned immediately.
“No”
I sent him the message
You rejected me very fast for someone who proposed first.
I almost choked.
This man had jokes?
I rubbed my forehead tiredly.
I don’t even know you.
This time his reply took longer.
You will.
My stomach flipped annoyingly.
No.
Absolutely not.
I typed quickly.
I’m not meeting you.
Seen.
It showed that he had seen the message, but he didn't say anything.
I exhaled deeply and threw the phone onto the bed.
What kind of man takes drunken nonsense seriously?
Alessandro De Luca.
Even his name sounded dangerous.
I stood up and walked toward my mirror slowly.
I looked terrible.
My eyes were swollen.
My emotions were worse.
And somehow…
I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
About the way he watched me.
About the way his voice deepened when he spoke close to me.
No.
I shook my head immediately.
I was already emotionally unstable.
I didn’t need a dangerous billionaire entering my life too.
Buzz.
I groaned loudly.
“What now?”
I grabbed the phone again.
One new message.
If you refuse to come willingly, Rosalie…
I’ll come get you myself.
My heartbeat stopped.
What the hell was wrong with this man?
- Writer
