Page 90 of The Wedding Menu

“Because of work. She needed a job, and… well, after fighting with my dad for what felt like eleven hundred hours, we hired her. It’s just temporary.”

“Well, it sounds like you should have listened to your father.”

There’s an undertone of annoyance as he mumbles, “No, I shouldn’t have. Since my mom died, he’s obsessively overprotective. I’m not a fucking kid: I can work with my ex and not propose to her again.”

Can he?

When he notices my silence, he clicks his tongue. “It’s just a date, Amelie.”

My foot taps nervously on the floor. I’ll admit I’m a little jealous—a lotjealous—but it isn’t the main issue I have with this. Ian might easily be the best person I’ve ever met, and he should find someone as good as he is, not a woman who shattered his heart. Not one who betrayed him. “Do you have feelings for her?”

“Yes,” he says with a laugh. “A few of them arereallynasty. Most of them are just moderately negative.”

I slap my thigh. “Then why would you go on a date with her?”

“Because… because I feel lonely, Amelie. Because the holidays are only a few weeks away, and you’re about to get married, and I will never get married, and I felt lonely for a fucking minute.”

I set my hand on my hip and sigh. “Ian, if you want a girlfriend or to get married, there’s a million women who’d love to say yes. Find another one.”

“Marriage is a scam, Amelie. I don’t want to get married and I don’t want a girlfriend either,” he says. “It’s just a moment of loneliness. Things will be different soon, once you’re married. We’re not going to talk as much. You’re not going to be…” He sighs. “I don’t know. It’ll just be different.”

I frown, the awareness he feels this way slapping me across the face. I hadn’t even considered it, but I guess he’s right. Things will have to change. I’ve let Frank believe that there’s more than friendship going on between Ian and me—much more—so, according to the rulesIset, I won’t be able to keep talking to him.

No, Amelie, focus.This isn’t about me. It’s about him.

Tucking the painful thought away, I clear my throat. “It’s time to end your crusade against relationships, Ian. Sharing your life with someone is a beautiful thing.”

“Is it? Is it a beautiful thing to share your life with Frank?”

I purse my lips. “I’m not saying relationships aren’t difficult. There are periods in which—”

“Periods? This period has been going on since before we met.”

“We’re not discussing me and Frank right now.”

“Why not? Let’s,” he says with a firm voice. “When we checked out that band for your wedding you said something was wrong, and boy, were you right.” He exhales sharply. “Your fiancé doesn’t care. You’re the last of his priorities, and he’s the one stopping you from making your dream come true. How is that better than what Ella did?”

“So, because you believe I’m in an unhappy relationship, you’ll be single forever.”

In the silence that follows, my heart aches. I hate that he thinks that. How he has such a low opinion of my relationship; how he’d condemn himself to a life of loneliness.

“Look, I want to go on a date, have a chat, do something fun. Maybe end up having sex.” He snickers. “And Ella might be the worst possible person to do it with, but she’shere. She knows nothing will come out of it. Really, there’s no harm.”

I blink furiously, trying to stop myself from tearing up. If he truly believed that, this conversation wouldn’t have started as it did. “Ian, I’m your friend, so I’ll support whatever decision you make. But I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t tell you what a dumb idea this is.”

“Duly noted.” He sighs.

“She doesn’t deserve you.”

“Agreed.”

“Any other woman in the world would be thrilled to go on a date with you.”

“I don’t know about every single one of them, but thanks.”

“Ian.”

“Amelie.”