Karina mumbles something under her breath, gulping down her freshly filled glass of wine. “Karina, I think you’ve had enough to drink,” Dean whispers not so silently. She waves him off, chugging the remainder of her fourth glass of red wine. We haven’t even ordered yet, and she’s nearly drunk.
“Where has Camille been hiding you? I’ve been trying to get her to bring you out for weeks now.” Fuck. Great, just the question that I was hoping to avoid.
Karina is drinking too much, and I see how Declan’s eyes follow her lips each time she takes a drink. I’m worried that seeing her drinking so much will trigger him, and the last thing I want to go through is Declan falling back into old habits. If he falls off the wagon after spending three months in rehab, I don’t know what will happen.
“We should order now,” I cut in before he has the chance to try and explain his absence. Knowing Declan, he'd be honest, and I can't have that.
Our waitress returns to our table just in time, so we order our meals, along with another glass of wine for Karina.
We engage in subtle but forced conversation while we wait for our food to arrive.
You can cut the tension in the air with a knife.
I know we all feel it. Even laid-back Declan seems to be on edge.
I say a silent prayer that our food will come soon, even though we just ordered so we can leave. The uncomfortable situation, mixed with Karina’s endless drinks may push Declan over the edge when he’s already so fragile.
We need to get the fuck out of here, and soon.
Karina’s been silent for a while, leaving the three of us to carry on a meaningless conversation. It’s light and fucking awkward.
Declan asks Dean about the build, I add a word in here and there, but otherwise, it’s awkward.
“So, Declan, how do you feel about not having more children? I’d think that you’d want more, you know, considering the first one was short-lived.”
“Karina!” Dean snaps, his booming voice earning us a couple of glances.
Declan’s face pales, his hands shaking while my hands ball into fists. He has to adjust his grip to keep his hand around mine, because I’m ready to jump across the table and strangle the life out of her.
This rude fucking bitch.
I’ve tried to be nice, but this is it. Her comment about my son is the final straw.
Fuck Karina.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” I hiss. Declan’s grip on my hand tightens, and his jaw clenches.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out that way,” she says with a smirk.
“That’s exactly how you meant it.” It’s too late for a fucking apology. Fuck the bitch.
“It’s fine.” Declan sighs, letting go of my hand. “But yes, eventually, I do want more children.”
“How will that happen since Camille doesn’t want more?”
“You are overstepping, Karina. That’s enough,” Dean interrupts.
She ignores her husband and continues, “I’m like you, Declan. I want a baby, too. But I’m married to someone who doesn’t want to give that to me.”
“This is not the time nor the place to have this discussion.” Dean grabs her glass of wine from her hand and sits it down on the table with force. “You’ve had enough to drink.”
“What’s it like to want something so badly but not be able to get because of the person you’re married to?” Karina’s glaring eyes look from me to Declan. “Let me tell you a secret, Declan. Your wife is fucking my husband.”
“Karina!” Dean practically yells.
“What the fuck?” Declan shakes his head, looking between Karina and me.
“You’re batshit crazy,” I practically yell. Yes, I’ve thought about him. But I haven’t been touched sexually by Dean in eleven years. This woman is fucking crazy. And she has the nerve to sit there laughing.