I hesitate. “He said she’s just trying to ruin him, and that she came up with it after she heard about the engagement. But, I mean, he would say that, wouldn’t he?”
“I suppose. But think about how she spread the story that he’d jumped off the waterfall drunk. You believed him then?”
“Yes, but I knew he wouldn’t have done that. It’s not about whether he’s trustworthy. It’s whether she is.”
“I wouldn’t trust her as far as I could spit,” Lisa says, and I have to agree.
She tops up both our glasses, finishing off the bottle. I haven’t eaten much, but I welcome the fuzzy feeling of inebriation. It eases the pain a little.
“Sabrina, Kingi, Tamati, Ria…” I give a heavy sigh. “All these relationships are so complicated.”
“So stressful,” Lisa agrees.
“I don’t want the stress,” I say fiercely. “I didn’t want all this tonight. Even though I was nervous about going, I thought I’d be like Cinderella, and everything would be magical when I got to dance with the prince. I didn’t even make it till midnight!”
“I know.”
“I’d like to have seen the clock strike twelve—apparently they release balloons and streamers from nets in the ceiling, and everyone cheers and celebrates.”
“And now you’ve turned back into a pumpkin.”
“It wasn’t Cinderella who turned into a pumpkin. It was the stagecoach.”
“Oh yeah. Well, your dress and shoes have disappeared, anyway.”
“My fairy godmother has fucked off,” I say gloomily. “For a little while I got to play at being a rich guy’s fiancée. And now I’m just plain old Chessie.”
“You still have the ring,” she reminds me.
I hold it up and look at it. “Yeah.” Slowly, I slide it off and put it on the table.
“Aw,” she says. “Are you sure it’s all over?”
“We were supposed to announce the engagement tonight, but obviously we couldn’t after Sabrina’s revelation. I don’t see how we can do it now, if she’s going to insist he got her pregnant. He’s probably lost the job at the Foundation, too. They’re not going to take him on if he’s engaged to one girl while he’s knocked another up. That’s hardly promoting family values.” I have a big mouthful of wine. “Maybe he’ll propose to Sabrina. Make an honest woman out of her.”
“God help him.”
The thought depresses me. If she is pregnant with his baby, it would make perfect sense to marry her. Even if it was all for show, the baby would be legal and have his name. It would all be above board, and look great for the Foundation. They could act happy, even if they were spitting feathers behind the scenes. He doesn’t need me anymore.
It crosses my mind that neither I nor Lisa have mentioned the fact that it’s supposed to be a fake engagement. When did it stop feeling fake?
Beside me, on the sofa, my phone buzzes, announcing a call.
I lift it and look at the screen. “It’s him,” I say.
We both look at the phone.
“Are you going to answer it?” she asks.
“Nope.” I end the call and put it down.
Thirty seconds later, it rings again. I stab the red button.
The next buzz announces a voice message. “I’m not listening to it,” I snap as if he can hear me.
“Maybe we should open another bottle of wine,” Lisa suggests. “But I can’t get up.”
“I don’t think I should have anymore.” The room isn’t quite spinning, but I’m not far off being drunk.