CHAPTER TWO
Ellie
“Ow, dang it!” I yelped right after my shin collided with the wooden coffee table that was now three feet to the left of where it was supposed to be. “What…?” I pulled my eyes away from the book I was reading on my phone as I looked around confused.
It seemed the living room had now been turned into a storage shed. Boxes and bags of random stuff now lined the right side of the room. Table cloths, glass vases, candles, and so on. Who knew weddings needed so much stuff? I certainly didn’t when I said yes to getting married.
“Are you okay, dear?” Mom asked, stepping out of the kitchen as she dried her hands on a towel. She was probably in the middle of doing dishes and my outburst had made her pause to check on me.
I bent over and rubbed the spot on my shin that I’d hit. My long braid slid over my shoulder and swung at my face, the thick hair tie hitting me square between the eyes. It was just not my moment at all. I would love to tell you that things like that didn’t happen to me all the time, but it would be a lie. I was a bit of a disaster magnet. At the age of twenty-one, I had just learned to roll with it.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I grumbled as I stood up and rubbed the spot on my face. “What is all of this stuff? And why has it taken over the living room?”
“Six weeks until the wedding,” she stared at me with a confused and dumbfounded expression. Like I had asked the stupidest question ever. “We need to make sure everything we ordered is right and that we have enough of everything. You can’t leave it all until the last minute. Plus, there are center pieces to put together. The gift baskets to make. And not to mention all of the other decorations, too.”
“Right…” I mumbled as I flopped down on the couch.
My dad, Vincent Sommers, was the mayor of Charlotte, NC. Don’t ever call him Vinny. He was a serious and commanding man. Growing up with him was almost like not having a father at all. He had always been political and we had always been the picture-perfect family. I was an only child and I was pretty sure the only reason I was conceived was to help his perfect image.
Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t have a horrible childhood. If anything, it was a little boring and pristine. I went to the best private schools in the area. When it came time for college, dad thought it best if I stayed close to home. So, I went to the University of North Carolina at Charlotte. It wasn’t a bad school, just maybe not the choice I would have made for myself. Maybe. Truth was, I didn’t even know what I would have chosen. Guessed it didn’t matter, my path was always paved for me. I worked myself hard and graduated early with a teaching degree.
Dad introduced me to Steven David at one of his charity events. Steven was older than me, pushing thirty, and head of a developing company. No matter how much I tried, I never understood what exactly it was he did. Or his company. Then again, I may have not tried very hard. I also didn’t understand why my dad pushed so hard for me to date Steven. All I knew was that it would benefit dad in some way.
Steven and I started dating and despite my first impression, he turned out to be sweet. We seemed to hit it off and he was never pushy. Which was good, because I was very inexperienced. As in, I had never dated before. The only kiss I had ever had was Buddy Katz in fifth grade and I didn’t think that really counted.
Four months after we started dating, Steven proposed and I said yes. My parents were all on board and the wedding was set for five months later. To say I felt like I was in the middle of a tornado, would be an understatement. Things were moving fast, or that was how I felt. But I did nothing to stop it.
I was still living with my parents, but I spent two nights a week at Steven’s if he was in town. We had a schedule of the days that I would be there when he was in town. Life for me seemed to be planned to a T. Steven traveled a lot, having multiple divisions of his company all over the States. He was usually home two weeks out of the month and not always consecutively.
The wedding was around the corner and I didn’t have much say so in any of it. Mom took over most of the duties and even picked out my dress. Not that I didn’t like it. The dress was beautiful and was the perfect style for my short, tiny frame. Being only five-foot-three had its disadvantages. I’d always hated my body. I felt like I was too short. My boobs were too small. My frame too straight. And my hair—I really hated my hair. Strawberry blonde and frizzy. I kept it in a braid most of the time because I felt that I could never tame it.
“Okay,” I sighed, feeling my mother’s death stare from across the room. “We can start organizing it after the weekend.” Giving her something was better than nothing. She smiled sweetly, but it felt fake, like always.
“Thank you, Ellie. This is your wedding, you should pep up a little and act like you actually are happy.” With that, she turned and headed back into the kitchen.
I sunk further into the couch and stared at the mountain of things that were my future. I had never been one to be in the spotlight. I didn’t even want to be on the outer rim of it. I liked the quiet and secluded. And my idea of a wedding wasn’t some big show. But that was what you got when your dad had power and your fiancé had money.
Six more weeks then this will all be over.