In which I fall in love with my brother's best friend.
*****
"Don't pretend like you don't feel anything." His voice is low, sending shivers down my spine.
"What do you mean?"
"You know damn well what I mean."
"I don't know what you're talking about...
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My fingers stay on the piano after I finish playing Clair de Lune. The sound of raindrops against the window makes a soft smile form on my lips.
It's perfect -- playing this song while the rain is pouring outside tonight. I guess that I never quit being melancholic.
I get up from the bench, staring at this breathtaking white grand piano that Vaughn has bought for me after he purchased this new house. Our house.
I still can't believe that we're getting married next month. We just got back in Perth after staying in California for Jake's wedding, and now it feels surreal that the same day will happen to me.
But then, I don't have any doubt about whom I want to spend the rest of my life with.
Stepping back into the dim-lit living room, I notice that Vaughn is having a phone call, standing at the doorway leading to the back patio of our house.
Quietly, I approach him from behind, and that's when I hear his conversation with the person from the other side of the line.
"I want the birthday cake ready on the table when we arrive," he orders. "Yes, I told you about the flowers. She loves garden roses. And make sure that nobody else is going to be there. I didn't book the whole damn place just to have some clueless person barging in."
My heart flutters after hearing what he said. I think that it's something that I shouldn't have heard.
Tomorrow will be my birthday, and now I know that Vaughn is preparing something for me. A surprise.
But not anymore, because this stupid girl just had to eavesdrop on everything.
After ending the call, Vaughn turns around, and when he sees me, he's taken aback. "Shit."
Uh oh. I'm just standing here, studying his expression, watching as the color drains from his face. Silence creeps in.
Vaughn's eyes squeeze shut as he rakes his fingers through his hair. "Fuck," another curse is blurted out, frustration skating all over his face. When he opens his eyes again, he looks at me with a serious expression. "How much did you hear?"
This is the time when I should play along and say something like 'nothing', just for the sake of saving him. But stupidly, I say, "Well, it's something about a birthday cake..." I trail off. "Something about arranging a table, flowers and booking the entire place--"
"Goddammit." He snaps his body around, his back facing me, and more swear words come out from his mouth.
"Vaughn?" I call him softly, amused. When I try to reach him, he stops me with his hand without even looking at me. He's still facing our back garden, one hand balled into a fist on his side and the other one covering his eyes.
