Chapter 2

Chapter 2

First thing the next morning, I bought an expensive set of bone china and a top-of-the-line espresso machine.

I was going to give them to Aunt Claire—a thank-you for ten years of looking after me, and a goodbye.

I parked outside her building, and she came down to meet me.

We’d just carried the espresso machine into the lobby when the glass front doors swung open.

Damon and Fiona walked in.

Fiona trailed behind him, fragile and helpless, and they were each carrying two big bags of groceries and household things from Whole Foods.

They looked exactly like a young couple who’d just moved in together.

When my aunt saw them, she was about to demand an explanation, but I held her back.

For once, he actually explained without being asked.

“Don’t get the wrong idea. The neighborhood she was living in was really unsafe, so I found her a new place. I didn’t know you’d be here. Why’d you buy so much stuff?”

I brushed it off. “You don’t have to report your work stuff to me. These are presents for my aunt.”

When he saw I wasn’t going to make a scene, Damon relaxed.

He didn’t know I was going home to get married, and I had no intention of telling him.

My aunt had been about to say something, but when she saw how carefully Damon was shielding Fiona, her face darkened too.

The four of us stood there awkwardly for a while, until Fiona said she was tired.

I looked at the two bags of household things in his hands and stepped aside to let them pass. Surprise flickered in Damon’s eyes, and he hurried into the elevator.

As the elevator doors closed, I felt like I was looking at myself, years ago.

Back when my aunt had just moved, he’d been just as eager to run errands for me. He’d carried my things into his apartment one by one, swearing he was welcoming the future woman of the house.

My aunt said, regretfully, “You really won’t let me ask him? You’ve known each other so long. If you break up over a misunderstanding, it’d be such a waste.”

I shook my head. “There’s no misunderstanding. He never lets a misunderstanding sit overnight. If he hasn’t explained, that’s the answer.”

To be polite, I sent him an iMessage asking when he’d be home.

He replied right away with a voice message.

When I played it, it was Fiona’s sugary voice:

“Aria, Damon’s helping me set everything up. There’s so much to do in this place! You should just go home, don’t waste your time here!”

And then another one: “Don’t get the wrong idea, okay? He’s only helping because I just graduated and I’m renting all by myself and it’s so sad…”

I looked at the screen. I didn’t even want to reply. I just closed the conversation.

When I got in the car, Damon called, extremely impatient. “Why are you taking it out on Fiona? She’s my assistant. What’s wrong with helping her find a place? The company hasn’t set her up with housing yet—isn’t it the least I can do?

“Aria, when did you get so unreasonable? Yesterday at the party you put on that cold face and left saying you weren’t feeling well. I haven’t even asked you about that yet, and now what’s this?”

In the background, I could faintly hear Fiona crying, so hurt.

She lorded it over me, then played the victim for Damon. I finally saw her little game clearly, and I couldn’t be bothered to defend myself.

“Mm. Whatever. I’m tired. I’m going home.” I hung up calmly.