Page 41 of Her Wicked Husband (The Huxleys #2)
“If you want to start a new tradition, give half your food to Bryce,” Josh says, his tone less than friendly.
“Don’t be a jerk,” Lareina says.
“Cut it out, Josh.” Bryce turns to me. “Lareina can’t eat food that hasn’t been sampled first,” he explains quietly.
“Seriously?” My eyes widen with shock. “Why? Did Zoe try to get you too?” I ask, then squirm when everyone’s eyes focus on me. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to mention her, like Voldemort.
Lareina gives me a small, reassuring smile. “No. My aunt and her family tried to poison me because I had an inheritance I was supposed to receive. So it’s become a habit. I mean, I know the food here is fine. But it’s a mental hangup.”
“I understand.” My voice softens with sympathy. “I hope your aunt and her family got what’s coming to them.” If reincarnation really exists like Sherry believes, they might be reborn as slugs.
“Oh yeah, they did.” Lareina smiles, then rests her head on Ares’s shoulder. “Thanks to my knight in shining armor here.”
He kisses her temple. “Queen.”
I flush, feeling like a voyeur. There’s such emotional intimacy to their interaction.
“They’re always like this,” Akiko says dreamily. “Isn’t that sweet?”
I nod, my throat clogged with longing and loss of my own.
I had something close to this with Bryce, and it could’ve grown into something more if I hadn’t shattered it with my own hands.
I look down at them resting on the table, wishing I could go back in time.
If I’d had the strength of character and experience I do now, I would’ve chosen differently.
Since most people are done, I pick up a fork and take a bite. Mmm… The food is very good—hard to believe she made it just this afternoon after finding out about Bryce and my marriage. Too bad she cooked so little.
The next course comes out: three slices of white fish, topped with a light brown sauce with a hint of freshly ground wasabi.
Again, the plate is gorgeous—the kind you have to hand-wash—and enormous.
To the right of the fish are little dots of green sauce and tiny blue, purple and pink flower petals laid out to look like a river flowing past a field of wild flowers.
Very artistic. It must’ve taken Akiko so much time to plate this.
“This is a new design,” Jeremiah remarks. “And the fish?”
“Suzuki. Japanese sea bream in English.” Akiko turns to me. “You can’t go wrong, believe me.”
“I’m sure.” I take a bite. The texture is firm and slightly chewy but delicious.
The rest of the dinner continues in the same vein.
How did Akiko make all this? And according to her, what we’re eating is a “non-luxurious” version because she didn’t have enough time to really prepare.
So what’s the fancy version? I don’t think I’ve ever been to a restaurant that plates this extravagantly.
But Bryce was right about the portions. Even after the tenth and final plate, I’m nowhere near full. No wonder he polished off half a pizza before coming over.
“So is there going to be an actual wedding ceremony?” Catalina asks, as the final plates are cleared.
Bryce says nothing.
I clear my throat. “Maybe in a couple of months…”
“Why the uncertainty?”
“Bryce is busy, and the nice venues are taken, and you know…” I shrug, glancing at Bryce, hoping he cuts in to stop his grandmother from wanting us to have a ceremony.
“A good venue?” Akiko waves a hand. “I’m sure I can pull some strings.”
You don’t have to be this helpful . “Oh, we couldn’t possibly impose—”
“You’re family! It’s no imposition.”
Prescott nods. I haven’t seen the man shake his head even once at anything his wife’s said. The obvious conclusion would be that he’s whipped, but the man is too controlled and cool. He just likes to let his wife do whatever she wants.
For a second, I wonder if he was this indulgent with Zoe as well, and what made her throw that all away.
Suddenly the lights dim. I look around. Akiko is beaming, although Ares and Josh seem less than thrilled. Whatever the reason, I’m glad for the distraction from all the talk about holding a ceremony.
A beautiful, round cake is brought out and placed in front of me. Flames on numerous candles dance. Swirly writing on the frosting says:
Happy birthday, Fiona Huxley!
I stare at it. Shock that Akiko knew and cared enough to put something like this together is followed by a sweet warmth. This is the first time I’m celebrating my birthday with a family—and it’s my name on the cake, not Finley’s.
Then, on cue, everyone starts singing “Happy Birthday.” I look around—from Bryce…
all the way to Jeremiah. Everyone is clapping and singing with a smile.
Even Josh and Ares manage. It’s nothing like the awkward celebrations I had with the Obermans: a forced smile on Zachary’s face, desperate happiness radiating from Sherry, who had to believe her daughter was on a blessed path toward good reincarnation, and Aaron, who never bothered to hide how much he despised me for “stealing” his sister’s place.
And me, sitting there self-consciously and wishing I could sink into the ground, while a ridiculously elaborate and fancy cake with figurines of all the things Finley loved on top said, Happy Birthday, Finn! We love you!
Tears well up. I blink hard to keep them at bay, but the skin around my eyes grows hot, the air in my lungs thin. When the song ends and it’s time for me to blow out the candles, everyone looks at me expectantly. I try to inhale, but the vise around my chest tightens. I can’t.
I cover my face and burst into tears.
A heavy awkward silence descends. Damn it. Great going, Fiona. You ruined the whole thing .
I feel like an idiot, but I can’t stop the tears. I cover my eyes with my hands, like an ostrich trying to bury its head in the sand.
Bryce’s gentle hand strokes my back. I can feel the weight of concerned gazes on me.
Stop crying and show your gratitude. Be the kind of lovable girl who’s worthy of such caring and attention.
But no matter how quickly I wipe the tears away, they keep rolling down my cheeks, soaking my face. A sense of failure presses down on me. All I had to do was smile and blow out the candles.
“I knew it.” Josh’s dark voice makes me tense as I wait for the rest of his uncensored disapproval.
Aaron’s constant criticism from my early years rings in my head: You never act right, you’re stupid, you’re such a loser, you’re—
“The cake’s too small.”
The absurdity of his annoyance cuts the flow of my tears. Laughter bubbles in my chest. Ares reaches over and smacks his shoulder. Prescott glares at Josh, then pats Akiko’s back.
I shake my head, laughing and crying. “No, no… The cake’s fine.”
“Did I misspell your name?” Akiko asks. “Or maybe you don’t want to take Bryce’s last name? I can easily fix it…”
“No, I’m fine. Really. This is a perfect cake.” My voice is nasal, and I sniffle. “I’m just so touched . That’s all.”
Bryce holds out a beautifully folded white handkerchief. I stare at it, unsure what to do. He sighs and tenderly runs it over my cheeks and chin, then places it on my nose. “Blow,” he orders me.
I hesitate, but he gives me a go-ahead look. I take the soft fabric and blow my nose daintily. It’s surreal to be taken care of like this. I realize then that I was never taken care of when I was growing up.
“Are you feeling better now?” Bryce asks.
My face heats with embarrassment. “Yes. Thank you.” I turn to everyone. “Thank you so much. I just got so emotional.”
“It’s just a cake,” Josh mutters.
“A perfect cake,” I say, then blow out the candles.
“Make a wish,” Jeremiah says with a soft smile. “A perfect cake might have more power than others.”
Bryce, Ares and Josh look horrified at their aunt’s statement.
“When did angels start possessing bodies?” Prescott says, staring at his sister like he doesn’t recognize her anymore.
Akiko shakes her head. “Don’t be mean, dear. Jeremiah’s right.” She turns to me with a motherly smile. “Make a wish.”
I nod and close my eyes. The desire to belong to the Huxleys forever surges, but I don’t dare ask for it. It’s too precious. Please protect and keep this family safe .
I open my eyes and smile. “Thank you. This is the best birthday celebration ever.”
“Better than the one I gave you before?” Bryce asks, eyebrows raised.
“That was different. It was just you and me. This is your family.”
His eyes soften. “It’s your family, too.”
I look at him silently. One heartbeat. Two… Three… I know he’s saying this for the sake of his family. He knows better than me that I don’t belong, but I desperately want to pretend for the evening. So I smile. “Yes, they are.”