It had been a week since that disastrous dinner and we were all still feeling the after-effects. Well, everyone except my father, of course, seemed as unruffled as he ever did. He spent most family meals ignoring us all soundly with his face hidden behind his favourite broadsheet.
The clink of silverware on china was once again an annoyance. I swear the only thing that kept me going to dinner was the food. Even after months, my enjoyment of Grayson’s cooking (and Byron’s, I assumed) hadn’t faded. My stomach fluttered whenever I caught sight of a new dish.
But even that wasn’t always enough.
Eloise ignored me just as thoroughly as my father did but I was okay with that. She only ever spoke to Ari and even then, it was stilted and a little awkward. Ari, for her part, only shot me belli
