“I can tell he is happy with you. Personally, that scares me much more than it does him. The last time he had a breakup, Shawn and I had to be there for him to put him back up on his feet. He was devastated. Has he told you about Kelsey? Actually, never mind. That’s something I shouldn’t talk about.”
I could tell she was starting to feel like her mother, a meddler. Abigail wasn’t one. She just wanted to look out for her big brother. I couldn’t blame her. If I had a big brother, I’d do the same. Something needed to be said; it just got incredibly awkward. “I can see myself being with him for a long time. I haven’t thought about marriage just yet. We haven’t been together long enough.”
I wanted to get off the subject of our relationship and onto hers. “So where did you and Shawn meet?” I figured if I could get the subject to change, I wouldn’t have to lie anymore today. Lying wasn’t my strong suit. Especially seeing as I would need to remember every lie, so I could fill Matteo in later. Our answers were required to match.
She laughed, bit her lip, and started to explain but then stopped, “Wow, my brother hasn’t told you. I’m surprised. Well, we met through him. Matteo and Shawn met in the fourth grade. He started coming home every day after school with him. We were all inseparable from that point on. We didn’t start to like each other as more than friends until high school. One day, Shawn walked up and asked me out on a date. The fairy tale started from there.”
Wow, they have been together since high school? I’m surprised they were just now getting married. Most people rushed into marriage after they graduate but not these two. Smart! A quarter of the kids I went to high school with were already married to their high school sweethearts. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why they would do that.
“So, where did you two meet?” Abigail asked, sipping on her mojito.
Shit, we hadn’t discussed what we were going to say when someone asked. “We met at an event for his company. I ran into him, and then we said a few choice words. At the end of the night, he asked for my number, and from there, well, here we are.” I smiled even though the story was entirely made up. She didn’t have to know that. It was our little secret.
The one bad thing about lies was who knows if ours were going to be consistent. I’m sure someone had asked him that same question already, but how did he answer? I doubt it would be the same answer as mine. What was he up to today? He wasn’t just sitting in the hotel room.