Page 8 of Dare To Marry You
I should be excited. Grateful. Something other than overwhelmed. But the last week spent away from home, from Kat, has uncovered just how bad my mental health is right now. And even though I know there would be no judgment from any of them, the deep-seated need to protect myself — to hide — is strong.
Max, the eldest Donnelly, steps forward. “Hunter, it’s nothing too elaborate, I swear. We just figured it would be nice to surprise you, go out for dinner, and then to a whiskey bar downtown. You’re joining our family and we want to celebrate that.”
I muster up a smile, hoping it’s convincing enough to hide the maelstrom in my head. “Sounds good, I’ll get dressed.” I start to turn to the closet that has my clothes and pause, turning back to the brothers. “Hey, thanks, guys. It means a lot that you’re here.” That much is true. The fact that they all turned up to be here does mean something. It signifies acceptance in a way that is unexpectedly reassuring.
The four men in front of me have seen me at my lowest, and not only forgave me, but helped me win their sister back. And now they’re here. For me.
Fifteen minutes later, and we’re heading out to a steakhouse Jude says is the best in the city. The guys are all talking, and I’m hanging back listening. It’s not as if I don’t feel like I have a place in this family. I do. I’m past believing they will someday wake up and realize I’m not fit to breathe the same air as their sister.
My therapist says what I’m experiencing is just a different facet of my anxiety. The worry about embarrassing myself — or worse, Kat. The fear of having attention on me and having people witness my nerves. I’ve worked so hard to hide it for so long that the idea of standing up in front of everyone, even for a reason as amazing as my wedding day, has my gut churning.
Tonight is meant to be fun. For the next few hours, I’ll lock the fucking worries away in a box, and try to enjoy a night out with the boys.
Then tomorrow, I’ll give in and call my girl. I don’t have to worry her with how bad my anxiety is, but I know talking to her will make me feel a thousand times better.
One more week till I’m home.
Two more weeks till I’m married to Kat.
The guys got their own hotel rooms and explained they’d be heading back to the island early today. A large part of me wishes I was going with them.
Instead of driving with them to the ferry, I have to make myself hold off until a reasonable hour to call Kat this morning. You’d think with the amount of whiskey consumed last night, I’d be dead to the world, but no. I woke up just after 6 am, and all I could think about was talking to my woman.
I hit the gym for a workout, showered, and grabbed coffee. Now it’s eight, and I can’t wait any longer. I need to hear her voice.
Putting my AirPods in, I press the button to call her and wait not very patiently.
“Hello?” Her smooth voice fills my ears, bringing a wave of happiness.
“Hey, Kitty Kat,” I say, sinking back against my pillow with a small smile on my face. “How are you, babe?”
She doesn’t answer immediately. And in that fraction of a second, I tense.
“Fine. Good. I’m good. How are you?”
Wondering why you sound offis what I’m thinking, but I know better than to ask that. “I’m great now that I’m talking to you. Did you know your brothers were coming to surprise me last night?”
“Yeah, I did. I hope it was a good surprise?” Warmth finally colours her tone, and I don’t let myself think about it being because of her brothers and not me.
I let out a short chuckle. “Sure, once I got over the shock of it. We had a good evening. How was your party?”
There’s that pause again. And there goes my stomach, dropping into my feet.
“Fine.”
I wait, but apparently that’s it. “Just fine? Do I need to talk to Lily about how to plan a bachelorette worthy of the most amazing bride to be?” My voice is overly cheerful, at complete odds with how I’m feeling right now. “Because you deserve the best, Kitty Kat. And if yesterday didn’t deliver, I’ll demand a redo for you.”
“Hunter…”
Okay, she sounds amused, not annoyed. That’s an improvement, I guess.
I hear her intake of breath. “Yesterday was great. Lots of fun. I guess I’m just feeling tired today.”
I consider that and accept it. I know they were at the very least starting with lunch at the winery, so chances are my girl’s feeling the effects of a hangover today. “Tell the truth, Kitty Kat, how much wine did you drink?” I tease, rubbing at my chest to try and ease the tension sitting there like a bag of rocks.
Except then her laugh sounds forced and I sit upright, my complete focus on trying to figure out what’s wrong.
“I didn’t get drunk,” she says, then she deflects. “Idid, however, get some great gifts I can’t wait to show you.” The seductive emphasis she puts on the last two words almost distracts me. But not quite.
