Chapter 2

Keegan’s mother, Donna, came over Thursday evening.

I liked Donna. She had taught me the cherry cake recipe two Christmases earlier, and for years she had introduced me as the best thing that ever happened to her son.

She sat at my kitchen table and immediately began explaining him.

“Turning thirty is hard for Keegan.”

I put my phone in front of her.

“Watch this first.”

“I heard what happened.”

“No. Watch it.”

She pressed play.

The video showed everything.

The eye roll.

The fake gagging.

The cake hitting the trash.

Austin asking whether I would cry.

Keegan saying nobody took me seriously.

Donna watched all the way through.

Then she turned the phone facedown.

“He had been drinking.”

“Trey was filming before he took a bite.”

Silence.

“They planned it.”

“Melina, you can’t throw away a whole relationship because of one bad night.”

“One bad night he rehearsed.”

“He probably didn’t mean that whole ‘humbling’ thing the way it sounds.”

“How else can it sound?”

She had no answer.

So she changed subjects.

The upcoming wedding.

Lenora was marrying Keegan’s older brother Diego in August. Donna was paying for the rehearsal dinner. Relatives were flying in. She wanted peace.

“It would be such a shame after everything Keegan had planned for that night.”

I looked at her.

“What did he plan?”

Donna immediately looked annoyed with herself.

“Nothing.”

“What did he plan?”

“I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You came into my house to convince me to forgive your son. You’re telling me.”

She finally sighed.

“In May, Keegan asked me for my mother’s engagement ring.”

I stared.

“He was going to propose to you at the rehearsal dinner.”

I actually laughed.

Donna looked offended.

“He wanted both families there.”

“You mean he wanted an audience.”

“He wanted it to be special.”

I walked to the basement door.

“Keegan!”

Donna stood.

“Melina, wait—”

“Keegan!”

He came upstairs eating cereal from one of my bowls.

“What?”

“Were you planning to propose at the rehearsal dinner?”

He looked at his mother.

“Thanks a lot.”

That was answer enough.

“What exactly was the plan?” I asked. “Humiliate me at your birthday, then hand me jewelry two months later?”

“It was a joke.”

“And the proposal?”

“Real.”

“Why?”

His face tightened.

“What kind of question is that?”

“You said I needed humbling. Why marry me?”

“Because I love you.”

“People who love you don’t organize public humiliation campaigns.”

“God, you make everything dramatic.”

Donna tried to interrupt.

Keegan kept going.

“I was going to make it up to you with the ring anyway. A normal person would have gotten over this by then.”

I stared.

“Make it up to me with jewelry?”

“And once we’re married, the house will be ours anyway, so this eviction crap is ridiculous.”

The kitchen went silent.

Even Donna stopped moving.

“The house will be what?”

“Ours.”

“I bought this house before I knew you.”

“I’ve put money into it.”

“Five hundred dollars a month.”

“I built the downstairs bar.”

“Out of free pallets.”

“I painted the guest room.”

“You painted one wall.”

“I fixed the porch light.”

“You changed a light bulb.”

He slammed the cereal bowl down.

“Nobody else is going to marry you with this attitude. I’m trying to build a future with you.”

I laughed.

“I would rather die alone in this house with forty cats.”

Donna gasped.

“That’s cruel.”

I looked at her.

“Your son just told me marriage to him is a favor.”

Then Donna turned on Keegan.

“Are you planning to marry her because of this house?”

“No, Mom.”

“Then why did you say it becomes yours?”

“I said ours.”

“That is not better.”

His jaw tightened.

“You always take her side.”

Donna blinked.

“You brag about her constantly. Her cakes. Her house. Her job. Everything. You never talk about me like that.”

And suddenly the birthday made terrible sense.

Keegan had not merely been jealous of praise.

He had been jealous that his own mother admired me.

Donna asked for the ring back.

Keegan refused.

“You gave it to me.”

“It belonged to my mother.”

“You gave it away.”

She left furious.

I remained furious.

Friday night, I rebuilt my soccer team.

Aurora, one of my former coworkers, agreed to return if Keegan was not involved.

Her boyfriend Finley joined.

Graham stayed.

His roommate Armando joined.

Aurora’s brother Samuel agreed too.

My sister Georgiana volunteered despite not having played since high school.

Meera joined after a spectacular argument with Austin, who apparently told her choosing my team meant choosing against him.

She chose the team.

At 10 p.m., I submitted our playoff roster.

Eight players.

Bare minimum.

Then I restored our original team name, the ridiculous cleat pun Lenora had invented three seasons earlier.

For the first time in years, it felt like mine again.

The next blow came from Lenora.

Her mother had hired a bakery for the wedding cake.

I had already bought pans, boards and decorating supplies.

When I confronted Lenora, she finally admitted why.

Keegan had privately messaged her mother and said I was angry at the family and might do something to the cake out of spite.

I stared at my best friend in the parking garage beneath her apartment.

“He told your mother I might sabotage your wedding cake?”

“She’s controlling. You know that.”

“Do you believe him?”

“No.”

“Then why didn’t you tell her no?”

Lenora began crying.

“I’m fighting her over the guest list, the church, the seating chart. I couldn’t fight one more thing.”

“So you let him take this from me.”

“That isn’t fair.”

“I know.”

That was the saddest part.

None of it was fair.

But Lenora’s exhaustion had become another reason I was expected to absorb the damage.

I stopped.

I had spent years making things easier for everyone around me.

Keegan had confused that with weakness.

So had other people.