Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Chapter thirty-two
Sophie
Silvan makes the most of his last day with me at his place.
We skip breakfast downstairs in favor of breakfast in bed again.
We binge Disney movies so he can further critique Beast’s moves and find out what Frozen is.
Since he knows this is probably his last day before I make an emergency appointment with my OB-GYN to get some birth control in my body, he does his very best to impregnate me.
He’s crazy.
It’s not news, I just feel the need to remind myself every now and then since being with him is so strangely nice and comfortable sometimes, I let myself forget.
We shower together and get dressed for dinner with his parents. After we eat, he says Hugh will come pick us up so he can take me home. I mostly believe him, but I’m still cautious when we head downstairs and I know I’ll have to see his father.
I half-expect dinner tonight to be veal with a side of veal and veal for dessert just to spite me, but since Silvan’s mom’s eyes were opened to the cruelty of the meat, I don’t think she’ll want veal on any future menus.
I don’t know how well she’d hold up if her husband exerted any pressure, but I don’t know if he will, either. Their relationship is still a bit of an enigma to me.
There’s no veal tonight, but there is salmon. I don’t eat that either.
I hope his dad doesn’t call me out on it. Fortunately, he gets a call he has to step out of the room to take just after the main course is brought out.
Silvan and his mom are both watching him leave the room frowning with confusion. I take advantage of his absence to grab my plate and make quick work of unloading my salmon onto Silvan’s.
“You don’t like salmon, either?”
“We’re going to have to watch The Little Mermaid so I can introduce you to my cute little fish friends.”
He smirks, shaking his head. “Do you want another salad?”
“No, I want to pretend I cleared my plate and only eat the vegetables so your dad leaves me alone.”
“That’s odd,” Melanie says, her gaze drifting to Silvan. “Your father never takes calls at dinnertime. I hope everything’s all right.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.” To me, he says, “You’re going to have to give me a list of all the foods you don’t like so I can keep them off the menu when I’m feeding you.”
“Can’t you just make nice, simple chicken? What’s wrong with chicken?”
Silvan smirks about my plebeian tastebuds but before he has to answer, his father comes back into the room and takes his seat across from me.
“Is everything all right?” Melanie asks, placing her hand on his arm.
He glances over at her and smiles faintly. “Yes, sweetheart. Everything’s fine.” He leans over to give her a kiss, then grabs his silverware and cuts into his salmon.
His word is her gospel, apparently, so Melanie’s worry eases, and she goes back to enjoying her meal.
We don’t have coffee tonight, but we do have water goblets and a pitcher of water kept on the table for refills. When Melanie notices her husband’s has emptied, she puts down her fork and stands to grab the pitcher and refill his glass.
It reminds me to check on Silvan’s. I’m horrified a moment after I’ve had the impulse, but I can’t shake the sense that I need to earn brownie points with Silvan’s dad, either, so when Melanie puts the pitcher down, I grab it so I can refill Silvan’s cup.
The action certainly grabs his father’s attention. I feel his gaze on me, but I don’t look back at him as I put the pitcher down and take my seat.
“You seem to be a fast-learner,” he remarks. His gaze drops to my plate and his eyebrows rise. “You also seem to be quite hungry tonight.”
I lick my lips, unsure what to say.
Good thing I didn’t lie because his gaze drifts to Silvan’s plate next and he smirks when he sees he has two pieces of salmon.
“Don’t have the heart to eat a dead fish, either?” he asks with mocking solemnity.
I tip my chin up and grab my fork and knife so I can cut into the tender glazed carrot. “I don’t enjoy the texture of salmon.”
I don’t enjoy him, either. I’m glad I only have one more course to get through before I hopefully never have to see him again.
When the last plate is cleared, it feels like the end of my stay. I tell Silvan I’m going to run upstairs to grab my things, and he says he’ll let Hugh know I’m ready for a ride home.
“Why don’t you stay for a bit longer?” Richard suggests, but it’s not really a suggestion.
Silvan frowns at the command and his gaze flickers to me.