Page 13 of Special Delivery

Dad and Kim intertwine their fingers, showing they’re a united front, and a pang of anger hits my stomach. “I know this might have come as a shock. But Kim and I truly love each other and want to spend the rest of our lives together.”

It might be the wine. Or the fact that I’ve been reeling with anxiety since I noticed that my delivery driver is Kim’s son. But I’m unable to suppress the snort that comes out of my nose and the roll of my eyes.

“You have a problem with that, Paige?” Dad’s strict tone is one I haven’t heard since I was a teenager.

I open my mouth to answer, but Jordan speaks first. “Matter of fact, we do. This is the fifth time we’re hearing this spiel. Paige and I thought that maybe, maybe you’ll grow out of it and finally start acting your age. But no, here we are, celebrating another engagement. So, excuse us if we don’t share the excitement.” She drops a napkin on her plate and rushes out of the private room. Emma rises to follow, but I stop her.

“I’ll go,” I tell her, pressing a hand to her shoulder. She does a small nod and sits back down. I murmur, “Excuse me,” and leave the room, along with my uneaten plate of food.

I hear Emma apologizing to Kim on our behalf, and I’m sure I’ve made the right choice. She’s the one everyone loves. I’m not nearly extroverted enough to get out of situations like this. They make my skin crawl. I am the Jordan whisperer, though.

My heart pumps loudly in my chest as I search for her. I find her splashing cold water on her face inside the restaurant’s fancy bathroom. The room is almost entirely black, with golden accents on the faucets and the circular mirror. Jordan grabs a paper towel and pats her wet face before releasing a long sigh and placing both of her palms on the marble counter. I approach her, leaning on the same counter.

“I know I overreacted,” she breaks the silence. “But I’m just… frustrated.”

“I know.”

“It’s the same story over and over again. And when she mentioned the house…” Another sigh. “I just lost it.”

“I know.” There’s not much to say other than that.

We’ve had these discussions a million times before. Each time, we wondered whether we should try to stop the weddings. Each time, we hoped he would learn on his own, but he never does. She closes her eyes to shake her head, and I know she’s calmed down. It’s what happens when you’ve spent your whole life with someone. You can read their moods by small gestures. You can read them better than they can sometimes read themselves.

“You should probably apologize.”

“I know.” She repeats my words back to me, exiting the space.

I wait for her to leave and enter a stall, needing a minute to myself. The people-pleaser in me is shaking with nerves. Once I’m finally ready to get back out there, I step out of the bathroom on a deep inhale. A blob of dark blue appears in front of me, and I step right into it. The blob doesn’t budge, obviously unsurprised by the collision. Warm hands wrap around my upper arms.

“Easy there. Are you okay?” the blob says.

I blink, raising my gaze, and realize it’s Ryan. “Not really. But for the sake of this conversation, I’m fine.”

He releases my arms, and my shoulder slump like he was keeping them up. He runs a hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

My face scrunches, showing my confusion. What would he know about this?

“It came as a shock to me, too.”

I cross my arms in front of my chest, building a wall of fake confidence around myself. My high school counselor used to tell me that confidence is all about faking it until making it, but I’m still waiting on the second part. “Did you know your mother was dating someone?”

“I did. I actually met Roger a couple of weeks ago.”

I let out another snort. “Well, then, you don’t know what Jordan and I mean. Besides, I doubt you’ll be crying since you’ll be getting a house out of it.”

His eyes narrow. “I don’t know what you’re insinuating, I hardly need Mom’s house.”

“Oh, you don’t?” I let out a sardonic laugh that feels unusual exiting my mouth. “I guess thirty-year-olds living with their mothers do so from the good of their hearts.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t have to know.” I point a finger at his chest. “I just don’t want my father to be a victim of your mother’s schemes.”

His eyes widen with shock, but his jaw quickly clenches, shifting from left to right. “Here I was, thinking that we could be friends. But then you go and decide to act like a dick.”

My cheeks heat as if he slapped me. He’s not wrong, but it still sucks to be called out like that. Not waiting for an apology, he turns on his heel and returns to where the others are sitting.

There’s no doubt I took it too far. Seeing him again, realizing he was Kim’s son, learning about the engagement, and then Jordan’s outburst—it was simply too much to maintain my perfectly curated emotional regulation. It also scratched on some old wounds from my childhood.