Chapter 20


    I opened my mouth to confirm that, but she didn’t give me the chance.


    “Perfect,” she cut in. “That is such a beautiful dress, Lina. It’s ssy and flirty.”


    Flirty? What was that supposed to mean?


    “Your boobs will be entering the banquet before you.”


    Oh … oh. So, that was what she meant.


    “But the color does really tter your skin, body shape, and face. Not like the frog dress.”


    “Thanks,” I muttered. “I don’t think I’ll ever wear green again.”


    “Good,” she said far too quickly for taking it as a good-heartedment. “So, what’s this boyfriend of


    yours going to wear? Are you going to match? Papá got a tie in the same shade of baby blue I’ll be


    wearing.”


    A tiny groan slipped out of my mouth. “Mamá, you know that Isa hates that. She specifically told us not


    to match.”


    My sister had been very insistent—no matching couples. I even had to fight her over not adding that


    instruction on the invites. It’d cost me a lot of energy and patience to convince her that she didn’t want


    to be that kind of bride.


    “Well, given that I gave birth to the bride and that I already bought that tie for Papá, I think your sister is


    going to have to make an exception.”


    Leave it to her to be stubborn. I certainly was, my sister probably even more, but our mother? The


    woman had created the term bullheaded as she opened her eyes to the world the day she was born.


    “I think she’ll have to,” I admitted under my breath.


    Reaching for my nner, I scribbled on my to-do list to call Isa to warn her.


    “I have an online voucher you can use, I think,” Mamámented while I unlocked myptop and


    absently checked my inbox. “Although maybe it does not work outside Spain. But it should, shouldn’t it?


    You are my daughter, and you should be able to use my vouchers, no matter where you are in the


    world. Isn’t that what the inte is supposed to be for?”


    I clicked on an email notification for a new series meeting I had received. “Yeah, sure.” A quick scan of


    the contents of the description told me I should have probably waited for my mother to hang up before


    opening it.


    “Yeah, sure, the inte is for that? Or yeah, sure, you’ll use my voucher?”


    I leaned back on my seat, reading through the information attached.


    “Lina?”


    What are we even talking about? “Yes, Mamá.”


    “Well, you’ll have to check the voucher yourself; you know I am not good with this inte thing.”


    “Of course,” I said, still not knowing what I was agreeing to.


    “Unless he has a tie already?”


    He.


    All my attention returned to the conversation.


    “Does he?” she insisted when I didn’t answer. “Your new boyfriend.”


    Small beads of sweat formed on my forehead at the prospect of discussing this.


    Him.


    The boyfriend I didn’t have but my family believed I did.


    Because I had told them.


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