Promised (The Promised Series)

another large bouquet; this one is with yellow roses. “Three bouquets this year? Dang, Dad’s starting out good this year.”
    Her brow pinches in confusion for a second before it smoothes out and she smiles. “These are mine.” She holds up the yellow roses, then points to the red. “Those are yours.”
    I walk back to the bouquets on the counter and pluck the card out of its holder. I don’t open the card in front of her. She’ll expect me to be head over heels excited by the show Shay is creating for me, and I can’t make myself put on a fake smile for her. Our relationship is still strained from our blow up at the dress fitting.
    Once I’m in my room with the door shut, I pull the little card out of its envelope and scan over the words. No poems or huge declarations, he simply signed. “Love, Shay”. I haven’t told him those words in return, but he’s been telling me them more and more. So far, he hasn’t expected me to return the sentiment, but it won’t be long before he starts pushing the issue.
    With a sigh, I flick the card at my dresser and head to the closet to pick out a dress to fit the plans that Shay has made for us. I’m not sure what they are exactly, but knowing him, it’ll probably be over the top like my dad’s. So I need a dress to match without giving away too much of myself.
    A deep red dress calls my name so I pull it out and lay it across my bed. I dig out the black heels that flatter it perfectly; then I begin to strip off my casual clothes from today. I lay the hoodie across the bed, right beside the red dress. I look back and forth between the two. One a symbol of my relationship with Shay – flashy and stunning, but uncomfortable. The other, a symbol of my relationship with Linc – simple, comfortable…right. I run my finger along the soft material of the hoodie, deciding I’ll wear it to sleep in tonight. Then I finish undressing and redressing in the red number. I pile my curls on top of my head with bobby pins and freshen up my make-up. After a once over in the mirror, I go to the living room to wait.
    I hear Mom in her bedroom, going through her own dressing routine. Just like Dad goes all out with her gifts, she goes all out making sure she looks perfect for him. So I know it’ll be at least another hour before she’ll be done. Right now, she’s probably in the middle of applying her make-up. Then she’ll move on to her hair. And even though she had a dress created for tonight, she’ll still try on no less than three others before she’ll put on the one she had made.
    Dad joins me in the living room; he learned years ago that he’d have to wait on Mom to get ready. And though he may grumble, he doesn’t complain because just like she loves his gifts, he loves the way she looks. And if it takes her two hours to look that way, so be it. A pale blue gift bag sits on the coffee table; his next step in the Valentine’s Day extravaganza he has planned.
    He changes the plans up a little each year, but he does have steps he follows. First, the flowers. Second, jewelry. Third, dinner at an expensive restaurant. Then he ends the night with some huge gesture. One year it was a surprise honeymoon for just the two of them. Another time it was a hot air balloon ride at sunset. My dad may be a badass gypsy man, who can take a guy out with one punch, but when it comes to my Mom, he’s a romantic to the tenth degree.
    “So what’s the bling this year?” I ask as I gesture to the gift bag.
    “Emerald and diamond necklace.” I saw the dress Mom had made for tonight and it’ll match it to perfection. He really did think of everything.
    He sees me smiling at him and gives me a knowing smile in return. I shake my head.
    Without knocking, Shay walks in. He’s traded his jeans for black dress pants and he’s got on a white button up shirt with black vertical stripes. He’s carrying a gift bag almost identical to the one Dad has set out for Mom. He must be following Dad’s playbook for Valentine’s Day because I know those bags are only available from the jewelry store in town. My hand flies to my four leaf clover charm hanging around my neck. I don’t want what’s in that bag, but I really don’t want it if it’s a necklace because I’ll have to take off the one Linc gave me.
    “Don’t be shy because I’m here. Go greet your fiancée.” Dad prompts when I don’t immediately stand and rush to Shay’s side.
    I give him an awkward hug and whisper my