Meant to be

The Jilted Fiancé - Dominic

I'm a very self aware person.

It's what sets me apart from the crowd.

You know, makes me special.

I exploit that niche skill for my own benefit and turn a profit where I can.

It's why I'm excelling in my career.

That and nepotism but who gives a shit about that.

Due to the fact I'm so self aware and I can be honest with myself, I know that I'm not the most perceptive or present fiancé but I can tell something's off with Evie.

She's...different.

I know she's keeping a secret, I just don't know what it is. Evie furtively smiles randomly staring off into space, it's peculiar and our interactions though they were never deep and meaningful, are much less frequent.  I don't get any more demanding calls asking me to do this, that and the other, in fact Evie doesn't seem that bothered about what I do, my presence is neither here nor there, which initially is what I wanted, but now that she's doing it, I want her to care. She's been so distant that there's been times that I actually have to engage her in the conversation or busy daydreaming, but daydreaming about what? Worker's rights or whatever new cause or charity she's determined to make everyone else care about.

My family, like most are civilised and polite to each other during meals at the table, except the D'Silver clan didn't seem to be aware of this.

They're rambunctious and have me desiring ear plugs as we eat breakfast, which apparently is another D'Silver December traditions, I'm starting to think they're making them up as they go along. Every other day I apparently need to be here to do something so menial like eat, something I can do anywhere anyway but it has to be with her family? Even though I've seen them everyday for the past twenty four days. I regard her across the noisy table, she's engaging in the conversation for the most part, laughing along at the crass jokes being made or partaking in the being nosey with each other's lives, the daily threat of bankrupting each other with their sacred interference jar. Occasionally Evie falls back from the conversation, taking a moment to herself, which I can't speculate too much about, this family is overwhelming but it's the way she smiles to herself, I know she's thinking about something special or sacred, something precious that she doesn't want to share with anyone else. Evie makes eye contact with me by chance, she gives me a polite smile before darting her gaze elsewhere, I know without a doubt there's a frown on my face.

This engagement isn't exactly traditional in any sense, on paper we look perfect for each other, aesthetically we are both very attractive people, both our families are rich, well known with thriving legacies, we both understand the terms and conditions of this engagement, we both know our roles. It doesn't matter that I don't love her, she doesn't love me, it's actually a benefit that this relation is devoid of love, not after that Mason Clarke malarky, except I can feel a shift in our engagement, a sense of disinterest.

I have a feeling I'm losing her, that nasty feeling deep in the pits of my stomach that has my head feeling like it's on fire, clenching my fists I count to five like my therapist said.

I can fix this.

I can and will fix this.

I quickly excuse myself from the table, it's a wonder anybody actually heard me with the level of noise at the table, I'm warned by the stepmother Lynne to be back in time for their Christmas Eve game day, this is the first I'm hearing of this.
Or maybe it's not, but in my defence all their traditions blend into one the more they talk about them.

Which is a lot.

They should be grateful they come from money, otherwise they'd never earn a living.