Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

NOVEMBER

TWELVE WEEKS LATER

Why did I agree to this dinner? What alternate universe was I operating in that somehow I thought this would be a good idea? I mean yes, the bride and groom's families are supposed to dine together, plan the wedding together, and even talk to each other. That’s all normal shit. Right? But in our case, our relationship was so whirlwind, given that we dated for only six weeks before we got engaged, that this is the first time this has happened. This is too much for one woman to handle. Right? I shouldn’t have to put up with this kind of verbal abuse. I wish I were a stronger person; I really do. People always walk all over me, and I don’t know how to make it stop.

I try to focus on the conversation at the dinner table, desperate for it to distract me from my inner turmoil. But all I hear are the clinking of silverware against plates, the murmur of polite small talk, and the occasional burst of uncomfortable laughter. My soon-to-be mother-in-law keeps asking me questions about my family despite them being right across the table from her. My job, and how I'll fit into their close-knit clan. I smile and answer politely, trying my best to seem at ease. I am anything but.

But inside, I'm screaming. What do I know about fitting into their family? Do I even want to fit in with these people? They are beyond awful. I’m trying not to judge them, but they are[ give me so many reasons to. As much as I love my fiancé, I am certain that I hate his family. I'm still getting used to the idea of being engaged, and yet here I am, expected to be the well-adjusted and well-connected bride-to-be. Newsflash: I’m not. I’m a freshman in college trying to figure out how to not be the lawyer my mom wants me to be. So far, I’ve had no luck with that.

I sneak a glance at Lincoln, seated beside me, effortlessly charming and at ease. How does he do it? How does he come from this seemingly perfect family and be so at ease with everything? I know he loves me, but can he truly understand my turmoil? The doubt, the fear, the overwhelming sense of being out of my depth?

This is the first time both of our families have gotten together like this, and I hate it. The restaurant my future mother-in-law selected is stuffy and different from what my family would have selected. The food is… too fancy and somehow slimy and gross. It’s oxymoronic.

This was the first time both of our families had gotten together in one place, and I freaking hate it. The restaurant my future mother-in-law has chosen is stuffy and pretentious, unlike anything my family would have ever considered. We are just normal people, everyday kind of folks. We don’t eat at fancy places like this.

My dad, Henry, is a CPA, and my mom, Lian, is first generation Chinese-American. She runs a chain of very successful dry cleaners in Wilmington with my grandparents, a fact that never failed to impress my extended family. I had always known that I was conceived through IVF and a sperm donor, but my grandparents don’t know that. My parents never needed to tell them, especially since they were already disappointed that my dad wasn't a doctor like most parents would want their only daughter to marry. This is neither here nor there, though, because I don’t know my bio dad and Lincoln, and I want to start a family; I sent in my DNA to be tested. I want to know if anything can be passed on to our babies that I am unaware of. It’ll be a few weeks until the results come in.

His mom, Clarice, is taking over our wedding plans with the help of Karen, an impossibly tall and beautiful wedding planner she had brought along. On the other hand, his father, also named Lincoln, is reserved and quiet. He rarely speaks unless directly spoken to. I can already feel the tension and awkwardness hanging in the air, and we haven’t even ordered our food yet. At this point, keeping the peace is my main goal, but as the night wears on, what I want for my wedding is becoming less and less heard, and Lincoln, my Lincoln, says nothing.

It's too late to back out now, I remind myself, forcing a smile as my future mother-in-law asks me yet another question I have no desire to answer. I have to make this work. I have to fit into this family. But deep down, I know this dinner is just the beginning of the challenges ahead.

As soon as we walk in the front door, I wheel on him. I held my tongue all night, but no more.

“What the hell was that?” I ask.

“What do you mean?” he asks, clueless.

“Your mother and the woman she brought to our family dinner.”

“The wedding planner?” he questions.

“I’ve already planned the wedding I want, and she’s taken over. I have no say in anything, and my poor mother, don’t get me started on that.”

“What do you want me to do about it?” he asks, and that phrase pisses me off like no phrase ever has before. I storm into the living room, head straight for the coffee table, gathering all my wedding magazines and the binder my best friend Trudy and I started making when we were in sixth grade. Trudy had her dream wedding to her dream guy last summer. He plays football for New England, so I still see her often, but she’s living her dream.

“Vegas!” I shout.

“Vegas?” he questions, sitting down on a bar stool.

“Yeah, Vegas. We should go to Vegas because I am not doing this,” I say, dramatically throwing my wedding books in the trash can. There’s no way I can do this, not like this. I’ll go insane.