His Father, My Revenge

Hailey *** You know you’re in love when you sit across from someone and all you can think about is the future you’ll build together; the beautiful kids, a cozy home, and maybe a dog you’d name something silly like Bacon. Chris lifts his glass, his blue eyes catching the candlelight. “Happy first anniversary, baby. I love you.” I smile, my heart fluttering. “I love you too. Always.” Our glasses clink. I glance down and catch my reflection in the wine; red dress, glossy eyes, and that look I only get when I’m with him. Something about tonight feels different. Good different. I think. “Try it Hail,” Chris says, gesturing at my glass. “Just a sip for me. You’ll like it.” He knows calling me “Hail” gets me. I smile and give in. “Alright. Just one.” He grins. “That’s my girl.” The wine is richer than usual, sharp and sweet, like cherries dipped in ketchup. After one gulp, I set the glass down. I’ve got work in the morning, and I want to be fully present if what I think is about to happen actually happens. He’s going to propose. I saw the ring in a red box in his drawer last week. Maybe he is waiting for the perfect moment, maybe today, that’s why I feel different. In the car ride home, he leans in and kisses my cheek.. “You smell so good,” he murmurs. “That dress… It’s driving me insane.” I smile, looking away. “Stop it, Chris” But he doesn’t. His lips trail down my neck. His hand inches toward my thigh, pulling my dress upwards. “Chris,” I whisper, tugging my dress back into place. “Let’s just… let’s wait till we’re inside.” “We’re almost home,” Chris whispers warmly on my neck. The scent of red wine lingers on his lips as they brush my skin, sending shivers down my spine. I let out a quiet laugh, light-headed. “You’re a bit handsy for someone with a driver two feet away.” “Let him hear,” he murmurs, lips grazing my cheek. “Maybe he’ll learn something”. He tilts my face slowly toward his, and for a moment, my thoughts dissolve. His kiss deepens, as his hand slides over my waist. I want to melt into it. Almost do — until his fingers slide further, and I stiffen. “You’re so ready for me,” he whispers into my ear, and that’s when I pull back completely. “Chris, stop it” My voice comes out sharper than intended. His grin falters just slightly, but he covers it up with a bigger grin. “Fine,” he says, brushing hair from my face. “You’re just… impossible to resist when you wear red.” I force back the smile threatening to come out, while trying to ignore the guilt pricking at my skin. We’ve had this conversation before. The waiting, my boundaries, and He said he understood. Did he really? The rest of the ride is quiet. He types something on his phone, his eyes unreadable. I fidget beside him, wondering if I ruined the mood, and if my sudden mood swings were from him not proposing tonight, or him trying to push my boundaries. When we reach the apartment, I slip my hand into his. He stiffens, then squeezes it gently as the elevator doors close behind us. Alone now. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Tonight was perfect. I just wanted to wait, you know that.” Chris wraps his arms around me. “I pushed you. I’m sorry, too. I got carried away. You’re just… you.” That should comfort me. It does. “I wore the dress for you,” I admit softly. He smiles. “And you looked incredible. You always do.” A beat passes. “Guess I’ll have to take care of myself tonight,” he says with a teasing sigh. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.” The way he says it—gentle, understanding, patient—wraps around me like a net. I think of the ring I saw in his drawer, of all the dreams I’ve shared with him, of how long we’ve waited, of how much I love him. And suddenly, I don’t want to say no anymore. “I’m ready,” I whisper. Chris’s eyes darken with surprise—and something else I can’t name. “I love you,” he breathes, lifting me into his arms, his mouth crashing into mine. The elevator dings. I giggle as Chris holds me tighter, his lips pressed to my neck. I can barely feel my legs, whether from the wine or him, I don’t know anymore. I just know I’m finally ready. We barely get into the living room when Chris stops moving. “Well, well. Look what we have here.” A voice I know way too well pierces the air, forcing me to jump down from Chris instantly.