Before You Go

chapter nineteen

Eliza

"Cake?" Tenille asks.

"Check," I nod. Last month, James and I attended a cake-tasting appointment. We went through about thirty flavours and by the end of the day, I felt as though I'd gained twenty pounds. I also had to fight a nasty upset stomach on the way home. There's something about sweets that just aggravates my sensitive stomach. "We decided on red velvet with cream cheese frosting."

Tenille shoots me a glance over her drink. "You hate cream cheese."

"So, what?" I shrug. "I chose the flowers and colour schemes. James can have the cake. Besides, I'm not going to be eating any cake. You know how I am with sweets."

"O-kay," she drawls, glancing down at her notebook. She reviews the checklist we composed yesterday. "DJ?"

"Booked and paid."

This is exactly how we spend the next twenty minutes. Meticulously, we go through each and every aspect of my wedding. And the longer we spend doing this, the more I begin to realize just how much I love Tenille. She's got a natural affinity for organizing parties and always makes sure things are top-notch. She's also not afraid to tell me if something doesn't seem right or if I'm making a bad decision. Which doesn't surprise me. Tenille and I have been friends for years; we're like sisters. Because of that, I can also tell when something is bothering her. She's been very fidgety all afternoon and refuses to look me in the eye for more than two seconds. Without Tenille having a hand in my wedding everything would have been a complete disaster, but I don't like that she's keeping something from me.

I set my fork down and stare up at her. I want to keep eating my food because I'm so freaking hungry after all of this review stuff we've been doing, but Tenille rarely lets things bother her. Something important is on her mind. "Tenille. You have something to say, so just say it, okay?"

She sighs and begins pushing around the contents of her ahi tuna poke bowl. The sight of raw fish makes me want to throw up my clubhouse sandwich. I look away. "There are a couple of things on my mind, Eliza. Your mom and dad are arriving later and I know how much you hate the drama they bring with them. How are you feeling about that? Last time they were in the same room together, it rattled you so much that you smashed a glass against the wall."

My cheeks burn as I look down at my half-eaten sandwich. I can remember that night all too well. It had been the night I'd introduced James to my parents. It was supposed to be two separate dinners, but my mom mixed up the date and arrived at the restaurant the night we were supposed to meet up with my dad. James, being unaware of the toxicity of them being in the same room, suggested that we all have dinner together. Things didn't go very well that night. As per usual, my parents bent the conversation so it was about them instead of keeping it light and neutral. They argued and argued until I snapped, picking up my glass and throwing it against the wall of the restaurant. I stormed out after that and left directly for Tenille's house. And by the time James came to pick me up that night, I was passed out on the couch and reeked of tequila.