As Long As You're Mine

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I stabbed the piece of poultry with my fork, angrily shoving it into my mouth. My mother sent me a warning look, but I didn’t care. I chewed the protein slowly, and then speared another piece of turkey on my plate in complete and utter rage. How had this happened?

       “Elle!” my grandmother called, two seats away from me.

       “Yes?” I croaked, my voice coming out higher than intended.

       “You didn’t tell me that Nick skied!” she said in regards to her new best friend.

       “Must’ve slipped my mind,” I said, snapping my fingers, about ready to shank Nick with one of the many sharp utensils spread throughout the long table.

       “Look the on bright side, Elle,” Jordan said across from me.

       “What bright side?” I demanded, glaring at my brother.

       “At least your not at the kids table like last year!” he exclaimed, sending James and Duke into a chorus of laughter.

       I turned to the man who was sitting beside me, my uncle, and sent him a cold stare for ganging up on me with Jordan and Duke. “Daddy!” I whined.

       “What princess?” my father called from the head of the table, which felt miles away from me.

       “They’re being mean to me again!” I complained.

       “Boys, please stop harassing Elle,” he said less than interestedly, returning to his conversation with Duke’s father, one his other brothers, on politics, the economy, or one of their other favorite, stuffy subjects to discuss.

       “Elle, you are so lucky to have this boy!” my grandma praised, patting Nick’s hand fondly.

       “Don’t I know it!” I said, biting my tongue, and feeling awful that I had to lie to her, but worsethat it involved still being in a relationship with Nick.

       “Your granddaughter’s a lovely girl,” Nick said, enjoying this all too much. He put his arm over my shoulder, and from the firmness in his muscles I could tell I wasn’t getting out of the hold any time soon.

       “How is it that in a matter of days, you have been able to infiltrate my house, screw with my mind, ultimately driving me crazy, and brainwash my relatives into loving you?” I whispered darkly into his ear.

       “Easy,” he said, as I shivered in reply to his breath hitting my neck, “I’m me.” It was as good an explanation as any.

       Even when we were younger, people always liked Nick. When he has to be, I will attest to him being a very polite, well-spoken guy. Not that I agree, but when my grandma first met Nick, the word she couldn’t stop using to describe him was “Charming”. She thought he was absolutely, positively, and utterly charming. Sure, grandma, whatever you say...

       “Elle,” my mother’s voice hollered, “could you help me in the kitchen for a moment?”

       Nick released his death grip on me as I slinked out of the dining room in aid of my mother. “What do you need?” I asked, as I saw pots and pans overtaking the sink, while cutlery and dishes were scattered about the counters. It didn’t look the normal, quiet, neat kitchen I was used to seeing.

       “To talk to you,” she said, juggling a glass bowl in one hand and a pitcher in the other. She was wearing the apron I had given her one Mother’s Day, and it made me happy that it wasn’t a complete waste of a gift.