I put on the dress I had picked out especially for the dinner at Devlin’s parents’ house. It was a black dress with a fitted bodice that cinched in my waist before falling downwards in a flowing A-line skirt. The sleeves were made of delicate see-through lace with beaded embellishments.

I had picked it because it was modest yet pretty, classy but it still had a slight edge to it because of the sheer sleeves and the hemline that ended just above my knees. I kept my makeup simple and classic to match the dress. I applied a touch of mascara and eyeliner, the faintest hint of blush and my favorite nude lipstick to finish off the look. I slipped on my black pumps and let my hair fall loosely around my shoulders before walking out into the living room where I knew Devlin was waiting for me.

He stood up the moment I entered, and I could tell he was nervous. Though I wasn’t sure if he was nervous on my account or because of this dinner party with his parents and all their fancy friends. I didn’t feel overly bad about his nervousness however. He had brought it on himself.

“You look… breathtaking,” Devlin said.

“Thank you,” I replied coldly, as we headed out the door.

I didn’t walk with him. Instead, I walked ahead, and Devlin had walk behind me. I had spent the entirety of the day in my room trying to come to terms with everything I had learned. I had spoken to mom and Seth, and both had given me their advice.

Mom told me that it was my decision entirely and that only I could make it because I was the only one who really knew Devlin. Seth had been less forgiving, however. He was pissed off that Devlin had lied to me and he was ready to help me move out of the apartment immediately. But when I explained to him that I couldn’t give up on Devlin just yet, he had surprisingly backed off.

I had heard Devlin leave the apartment at one point during the day and that was when I had snuck into the kitchen for lunch and a stretch of my legs. But I had wanted to spend the day alone, so the moment I heard Devlin’s key in the door, I had headed back to my room and locked the door. The time alone had helped, and to his credit, Devlin had allowed me that space. I knew he wanted to talk to me, and it was probably killing him to keep silent, but he was doing it because he knew it was what I needed.

Devlin led me to a car parked on the street just outside our building. I looked at him and frowned. “Where did you get the car?” I asked.

“It’s Zack’s,” Devlin told me. “I borrowed it for tonight. I didn’t want you to have to walk around in heels and take the subway all dressed up like that.”

It was a thoughtful gesture and just typical of the kind of man Devlin was. It softened me up a little, but I didn’t want him to know that just yet. He held the door open for me, and I got into the passenger’s seat. It was nice to be driven, and I actually enjoyed the ride to Devlin’s parents’ house. When he finally pulled to a stop, I glanced out the window, and my eyes went wide.

“That is where your parents live?” I asked.

“Yes.”

The house looked more like a mansion to me. It was a massive, two-story house with a remote-controlled gate and a sprawling lawn inside. I was immediately glad I had taken such pains with my appearance tonight. The house alone was intimidating as hell; I could only imagine that Devlin’s parents would only be a stronger reflection of their home.

Devlin rang the doorbell, and a few moments later a maid answered. I knew immediately she was a maid because she had on a uniform… just like in the movies. I couldn’t help glancing over at Devlin who gave me a little smile and pushed me into the house with his hand on the small of my back.

The maid showed us to the ‘drawing room’ as she called it, but there was no one there. There was a drink cart set up to one side with a dozen different options.

“Oh my God,” I said, turning to Devlin as the maid disappeared. “This is crazy.”

“I told you.”

“No, you did not tell me,” I said. “I had no idea your parents were… like this.”

Devlin smiled in embarrassment. “I know it seems impressive, but it was only ever claustrophobic to me growing up.”

“I don’t doubt it,” I said, looking around. “It’s just…”

I trailed off as I realized just how wealthy and influential Devlin’s parents actually were. And despite all that, they had still cut their son off for merely following his dreams. I was overwhelmed for a second, and I slipped my hand into Devlin’s. He looked at me in surprise and gave me a tentative smile, which I returned readily.

He was about to say something when a woman I could only assume was his mother walked into the drawing room and interrupted what he was about to say. She was wearing a smart silver skirt suit with a silver brooch at her breast and pearls at her neck.

“Hello, Devlin,” she said formally, and I noticed that she didn’t make any attempt to hug him. “This must be your girlfriend, Zoey?”

“Hello, Mrs. Danvers,” I said, coming forward and extending my hand out to her. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

She looked at me with obvious interest, and I could tell she was sizing me up. By the looks of it, I passed muster because she gave me a warm smile and told me to take a seat.

“The two of you are a bit early,” she said. “But that’s good… that gives me a chance to get to know Zoey a little.”

“Where’s dad?” Devlin asked.

“He’ll be here in a moment,” Mrs. Danvers replied.

A second later, I heard a deep voice in the hallway and Devlin’s father appeared. He was a tall man, and I realized that Devlin looked very much like him. He was well built with classically handsome features and the same blue eyes that he had passed on to his son. But there were obvious differences too. He didn’t have any of Devlin’s warmth or obvious charisma. He was poised and controlled; he held himself differently. He was impressive and completely unapproachable.

“Devlin,” he said, with a curt nod.

“Gerard,” Mrs. Danvers said. “This young lady is Devlin’s girlfriend… Zoey. She’s a graduate of Columbia University.”

“Soon to be graduate of Columbia University,” I corrected quickly. “That is if I’ve passed my finals.”

“She most definitely passed her finals,” Devlin said. “I heard her play, she was amazing.”

Mr. Danvers turned to me curiously. “You major in music?”

“Yes, sir, I do,” I nodded.

“And I hear you play the piano.”

“I do,” I said.

“Well then, you must play something for us tonight,” Mr. Danvers said. “When the rest of our company arrives.”

“I would love to,” I said.

I sat down next to Devlin, and he put his hand on my knee. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to make sure I was all right or if he needed some support.

“Can I get you something to drink, Zoey?” Mr. Danvers asked me, and I was conscious of the fact that while he was making it a point to talk and include me, he wasn’t extending that same effort to his son. “You are old enough to drink, aren’t you?”

“Just barely,” I smiled. “But yes, I’d like a drink.”

“We have red wine and white,” Mr. Danvers replied. “We have scotch, gin, and champagne.”

“Uh… well, then I’ll have… a glass of white wine,” I said, panicking and picking the first thing that popped into my head.

“Chardonnay then?” Mr. Danvers asked.

“Sure.”

“And you?” Mr. Danvers asked as he turned to Devlin. It was almost like the offer was an afterthought.

“The same,” Devlin replied. “Thank you.”

I could feel how tense and stiff Devlin was and I squeezed his hand instinctively. “It’s ok… just breathe,” I whispered to him.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” he whispered back.

“You’re doing great,” I said bracingly.

I was nervous myself. This was the first time I had ever met a boyfriend’s parents and Devlin, and I were going through our own little drama at the moment. But all this just reinforced to me how much I loved him. I knew that being here to support him was the right thing and I felt proud of myself that I seemed to be able to hold my own against his parents.

Devlin seemed to notice that too as the minutes ticked by and I answered his parents’ questions with a certain level of comfort and ease that I didn’t necessarily feel. By the time the first guests came by, Mrs. Danvers was laughing at something I had said, and even Mr. Danvers was smiling in appreciation. As they went to welcome the well-dressed couple who had just shown up, Devlin turned to me with bright eyes.

“You’re a hit,” he said, in amazement. “I actually think they might like me a little better because of you.”

“You’re doing well yourself,” I told him.

“That’s because I’ve barely said a word tonight,” Devlin replied. “And I’m avoiding all mention of my career path. It’s a sore point with both parents.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“No, I’m just telling it like it is.”

“My God,” the gentleman who had just entered came forward with his eyes on Devlin. “Is that little Devlin? I haven’t seen you since you were in high school.”

“Middle school actually,” Devlin said. “How are you, Mr. Stevenson?”

“I’m doing well,” Mr. Stevenson. “Margaret, look who’s here.”

“Devlin,” Mrs. Stevenson said, coming forward and shaking his hand. “It’s been so long.”

“It has,” Devlin nodded. “This is my girlfriend, Zoey.”

As I was introduced to the beautiful new couple, I couldn’t help but notice how uncertain Mr. Danvers was looking suddenly. Almost as though he were scared that Devlin would embarrass him. That thought made me angry, and I felt almost as though I needed to defend Devlin against his parents’ judgmental preconceptions.

“What have you been doing with yourself, Devlin?” Mrs. Stevenson asked.

“He’s been taking the art world by storm,” I said, stepping in before Devlin could say anything.

I saw Mr. Danvers flinch a little, but I kept going. Devlin tried to shut me up, but I ignored him and sang his praises. “Let me show you some of his work,” I said proudly, as I whipped out my phone and found the gallery where I had saved all Devlin’s paintings and sketches.

“My God… they’re beautiful,” Mrs. Stevenson said, with awe.

I saw Mrs. Danvers looking at the images over her shoulder, and I could tell that she hadn’t seen any of Devlin’s recent work.

“You’re a very talented young man, Devlin,” Mr. Stevenson said. “Tell me, have you been exhibited anywhere?”

“I’m about to be,” Devlin admitted. “The owner of White Lines Gallery has agreed to let me exhibit my work at his next display.”

“Would that be Gordon Chadwick?”

“That’s the one,” Devlin nodded.

“He’s notorious for delaying his exhibitions,” Mr. Stevenson said. “The man’s a perfectionist.”

“Unfortunately, I’m well aware,” Devlin nodded. “He keeps pushing back the date of this exhibit. I don’t mind though… the exposure will be worth the wait.”

“Fantastic,” Mr. Stevenson said. “Will you send us an invitation when he finally decides to put on the show?”

“Of course,” Devlin said, looking extremely pleased.

“You must be very proud of your young man,” Mrs. Stevenson said.

The question was directed at Devlin’s parents, but both of them looked a little lost for words. So I held onto Devlin’s hand and nodded. “I’m extremely proud,” I said fiercely.