A/N: we were number one in teen fiction a while ago, and i wasn't able to thank you all yet. here's a double update to show my gratitude!
It was their engagement party.
Ali was walking around the long dinner table, adjusting the plates and utensils, while Sawyer was thanking the restaurant owner once more. He was able to convince the owner to close it for the rest of the night for them; Ali could only imagine how he managed to do so.
She glanced behind her at the two-person table, and her lips slowly lifted into a nostalgic smile. This was the same restaurant where they went out together for the first time, and although he had invited her merely for keeping up appearances at the time, it was still a precious memory for her. After all, that day was what kickstarted everything between them.
His hand snaked around her waist, and she averted her eyes from the memorable table to look up at him. He smiled knowingly, having picked this restaurant himself, before pressing a small kiss to her forehead. His other hand was fiddling absently with her engagement ring on her finger, obliviously sending electrifying chills down her spine. She reached up to squish his cheeks together—a new habit of hers that he reluctantly allowed because of how much it entertained her to see how it contrasted with his emotionless face.
The two of them blinked back in surprise when a flash of light momentarily blinded them, followed by an excited squeal. The redheaded supervisor smiled sheepishly at the startled couple, then held up her phone to show them the picture. "Sorry about that, but I had to capture the moment. You guys are so cute."
"Hi, Marina," Ali chuckled lightly as she tore away from Sawyer and enveloped her in a hug. She then took a closer look at the picture and made an aww-ing sound. "Can you send me that please? Sawyer looks adorable in that."
"You know what looks good in that picture?" Brady remarked suddenly, seemingly popping up out of nowhere. "That ring, girl, damn. Shinier than a freshly unwrapped lollipop."
Ali gasped and quickly embraced him, catching him by surprise. "Brady, I missed you. How was the candy convention?"
"Beyond amazing! I scheduled, like, three different dentist appointments as a precaution though. But I missed you too, city girl, and I brought you some of the high quality candy as an engagement gift," Brady said as he handed her the hot pink gift bag with great care. She took a peek inside and immediately caught a warm, chocolatey whiff that made her stomach hum with approval.
"That smells really good. Thank you so much, Brady."
Brady nodded, then craned his neck to look over at the groom-to-be. "And I made sure to add some dark chocolate in there too for you, Soy-soy. Yeah, that's right, I've seen you gobbling those up in the sweets section back at the store."
"Thanks, stalker," Sawyer replied, ignoring his cheeky nickname for him.
A moment later, Ali's father—Andre—walked into the restaurant and pulled his only daughter into a tight hug. Sawyer watched as the two of them greeted each other happily, his gaze lingering on the bright smile on his fiancée's face. Ever since Grandma Nina passed away, both father and daughter made an effort to grow closer, and he knew how much this newfound relationship with her father meant to her.
"Sawyer, how are you doing?" Andre asked him as he shook his hand. "I assume you're doing very well, considering how much has changed since the last time we spoke when you requested my blessing."
"Yes, I'm very glad she said yes."
Ali stepped in between the two of them and narrowed her eyes at them. "I didn't know you had asked my dad for his blessing. So how long have you known then?"
"He asked me about a month before he proposed, I believe. You thought your old dad couldn't keep a secret, huh?" Andre smirked smugly, and she shook her head.
"Well, anyway, I found this vintage T-shirt in a thrift shop of that jazz band you used to like. I've been meaning to give it to you. I forgot it in the car though, so I'll be right back," Ali said before gesturing everyone towards the table. "Hey, you guys can sit now. Feel free to try the appetizers."
She glanced over her shoulder as everyone settled down, then scurried outside into the parking lot. She quickly unlocked the car, then grabbed the shirt from the backseat. Her eyes caught her reflection in the rearview mirror, and she took a moment to fix up her curled hair.
Once she was satisfied, she rushed over to the entrance of the restaurant and stepped inside. She paused midway, whispering an obscenity under her breath, before stepping back out to lock her car.
And at that same moment, she spotted the eminent man climbing out of his own vehicle.
He looked up and locked eyes with her for a few seconds, then made his way towards her. She pursed her lips, surprised that he came regardless of the fact that she was the one who urged Sawyer to invite him. It had been a while since they had last seen each other; in fact, they hadn't seen each other since the incident that almost caused the couple to break up. Both father and son avoided each other after that.
"Hello, Mr. Price," Ali said as she stood in front of the entrance and crossed her arms. Neither of them wore their signature smiles, as opposed to any of their other interactions.
Mr. Price peered at her with a cryptic expression on his face. "Ali. I certainly didn't think that the next time I'd see you, you'd be engaged to my son."
"Might that have to do with the discussion you had with him the day he told you about us?" she asked calmly, her tone holding no hint of contempt yet also no amiability. Her words caught him off guard, she noted, although it wasn't so blatantly obvious. But after living with a sociopath for so long, even a slight twitch couldn't go undetected.
"So he told you about that," he replied with a sigh, while she continued to stare at him. His eyes quickly swept over their surroundings before returning to her and cocking his head slightly. "You puzzle me, Ali. Why are you willing to put in so much effort on a person like my son, with his condition? As his father, I know he is not easy to live with, so it makes me wonder why you would voluntarily choose to stay with him—potentially for the rest of your life, as a marriage usually promises."
"The reason is not so complicated as you may think, Mr. Price. I simply love him enough to accept his flaws, and instead of belittle him for it, I try to understand. I try to help when I can, or think of a way to compromise. Just as you would do for any issue that arises in a relationship, whether one has a mental disorder or not."
Mr. Price scoffed. "I see, so you claim that love fixes everything. If only it were so black and white. I suppose you and my son will learn the truth the hard way after a few years of marriage, and you'll both finally heed my words when you divorce."
Ali did not respond for a moment, internalizing the disgust that stirred within her, as she studied him. Much like his son, his expression was also unreadable, hidden behind a mask, but it was more difficult to conceal one's habits—especially when they were done unconsciously. Her eyes dropped to his left hand, where his thumb was absently rubbing against a phantom wedding band on his ring finger.
That was when the pieces started to come together.
"Have a good rest of your day, Mr. Price!" someone shouted from inside of the store, catching her attention. Her eyes shot to the entrance, where the eminent man appeared with a briefcase in hand and a charming smile adorning his stubbled face. He waved to whoever had called out to him, then turned around and started towards his vehicle. Oblivious to her watchful gaze, he let his guard down.
Ali's eyes widened when Mr. Price's face relaxed into a familiarly cold expression as he stared ahead blankly. She continued to watch him in absolute shock until he drove off without noticing her at all.
"Your wife," Ali suddenly said, causing his face to harden instantly. "You seem to be so certain of how my marriage will end, almost as if you've experienced it yourself with your wife."
"I lost my wife to a brain aneurysm, not to a divorce," he spat out, and she narrowed her eyes at him.
"Who's to say she wasn't planning on divorcing you before she died?"
Mr. Price recoiled, offended. "On what grounds—"
"On the grounds that you, too, are a sociopath."