Robert’s parents’ house is stunning. As we pull up, he walks around to my side of the car and opens the door for me, ever the gentleman.
"How are you feeling?" he asks, his voice soft.
"Nervous," I admit, taking a deep breath as I step out of the car.
"My mom’s cool, you shouldn’t worry about anything," he reassures me, but I still can’t shake the anxious feeling. I nod, trying to force a smile, and take his hand as he leads me up the steps to the front door.
I didn’t want to come to this dinner, and it bothers me that Robert never really gives me a choice. He always has a way of pushing me into things. Now here I am, dressed to impress in a white, flowing dress with matching heels, hoping I look good enough to win over his family.
He rings the doorbell, and it’s promptly answered by
