Chapter 2: Undercurrents
1327 Words
I changed my shirt twice before deciding my mother was probably going to complain about whichever one I chose anyway.
The first one was too fitted. The second one had a neckline she would call inappropriate, which left me standing in front of my wardrobe with three dresses spread across my bed and wondering why dinner with people I had known since childhood suddenly required military preparation.
I eventually chose a simple cream dress that fell just below my knees. It was modest enough to satisfy my mother and comfortable enough that I would not spend the entire evening tugging at it.
I was fixing my earrings when my phone buzzed on the bed.
Alexa.
I smiled. Alexander and I had been friends since we were sixteen, when we somehow went from barely knowing each other to talking every day. She had been beside me ever since, and despite our completely different personalities, I couldn’t imagine my life without her.
“Hello?”
“You sound suspiciously dressed.”
I looked at myself in the mirror. “How can you hear what I’m wearing?”
“I know you, Rosa. You only sound that awake when your mother has threatened you with something.”
I laughed. “The Veyrons are coming.”
There was a brief silence.
“Cassian?”
“Obviously.”
“So your mother is finally making her move.”
I frowned. “What move?”
“Please tell me you are not that innocent.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Alexander laughed softly. “Cassian has liked you since forever.”
I picked up my hairbrush. “No, he hasn’t.”
“Rosa.”
“He’s just nice.”
“He remembers your favorite tea.”
“So?”
“He once drove across town because you mentioned wanting a particular book.”
“That was years ago.”
“Exactly.”
I rolled my eyes and started brushing my hair. “You make everything sound romantic.”
“Because everything about that boy is romantic.”
“He’s my friend.”
“Sure.”
I smiled despite myself.
Alexander was the only person who could tease me without making me want to defend myself. My mother had never understood why I liked her. She said Alexander was too outspoken, too carefree and too willing to encourage my stubbornness.
She wasn’t completely wrong.
Alexander had introduced me to half the things my mother considered unnecessary. Late night conversations, terrible movies, ridiculous clothes and the simple idea that I could leave the house without having a reason approved by my parents.
She had also been the first person to tell me that being twenty three did not mean I had to have my entire life figured out.
I needed that reminder more often than I admitted.
“Anyway,” she said, “are you excited?”
“For dinner?”
“For Cassian.”
I smiled at my reflection. “Goodbye, Alexander.”
She laughed. “Tell him I said hello.”
“I won’t.”
“You will.”
“I won’t.”
I ended the call before she could say anything else.
Cassian.
I had known him for most of my life.
Our families had always been close. There were childhood birthdays, family dinners, holidays and far too many photographs of the four of us standing together while our parents smiled behind us.
Cassian had always been the easiest person to be around.
My mother trusted him.
That alone made him unusual.
She did not like me spending time alone with boys. She had rules for everything, and somehow Cassian had always been the exception. If I wanted to go somewhere with him, she rarely objected. If he came to the house, she never hovered around us.
I had never understood why.
Maybe it was because she knew his family so well.
Maybe it was because Cassian had never given her a reason to worry.
His sister was another story.
Solenne had always been beautiful. Even as a teenager, she had the kind of face people noticed immediately, with perfectly styled hair and clothes that always looked more expensive than mine.
She had also never liked me.
Not enough to openly fight with me.
Just enough to make sure I knew.
I had once complimented her dress when we were younger, and she had looked me over before smiling.
“You wouldn’t wear something like this.”
I had been thirteen.
I had gone home that evening and stared at my wardrobe for nearly an hour.
That was Solenne.
Beautiful, polished and somehow capable of making an ordinary sentence stay in your head for years.
I picked up my phone and glanced at the time.
My mother would come upstairs soon if I didn’t go down.
I took one last look at myself and left the room.
The house smelled like roasted chicken and pepper when I reached the dining room. My father was already there, adjusting the cuff of his shirt while my mother moved plates around the table.
She looked up.
Her eyes travelled over me.
For once, she didn’t complain.
“Much better.”
I pulled out a chair. “Thank you.”
She gave me a warning look.
I sat properly.
A few minutes later, headlights swept across the windows.
My mother immediately straightened.
“They’re here.”
I looked toward the front door.
I heard voices outside, followed by the sound of the door opening.
Then Cassian walked in.
He looked almost exactly as I remembered him, except older now. Taller, broader through the shoulders, dressed in a dark suit that somehow made him look more relaxed rather than more formal.
His eyes found mine almost immediately.
His smile appeared.
“Rosalia.”
“Hi.”
He crossed the room and hugged me.
I smiled against his shoulder before stepping back.
“You look beautiful.”
I glanced down at my dress. “Thank you.”
His mother came next, embracing me warmly, followed by his father.
Then Solenne entered.
Her eyes landed on me.
For a second, she said nothing.
Then she smiled.
“Rosalia.”
“Solenne.”
She kissed my cheek lightly.
“You haven’t changed.”
I smiled politely.
Neither had she.
We sat around the table, and dinner began.
For the first few minutes, everything felt normal.
Our parents talked about old friends, business and places they had visited. Cassian asked about my bookbinding, and I was surprised he remembered it.
“You still do that?”
“Every chance I get.”
He smiled. “I remember you repairing that old dictionary when we were seventeen.”
“You remember that?”
“I remember a lot about you.”
I looked down at my plate.
Across the table, Solenne’s fork stopped moving.
I noticed.
She continued eating a second later as though nothing had happened.
My mother smiled.
There was something about that smile I didn’t like.
I glanced at my father.
He avoided my eyes.
That was when I realized the dinner wasn’t really about catching up.
Nobody had said anything yet.
After dinner, Cassian found me in the hallway.
“Can we talk?”
I followed him into the quiet sitting room.
He closed the door behind us.
For the first time that evening, he looked nervous.
I folded my arms.
“What is it?”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
That was new.
Cassian had never been nervous around me.
“I was going to ask you myself.”
I frowned.
“Ask me what?”
He looked directly into my eyes.
“Would you be comfortable if our families took things a little further?”
I frowned. “Further?”
His eyes stayed on mine.
“You and me.”
“Cassian, what are you talking about?”
Before he could answer, Rebecca called his name from the dining room.
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