"Well, finally! Where the hell are you? GPS says you're not home!"
And then came the questions, one after another.
I just let him blabber on and on, keeping my cool while walking out of the airport.
When he came to pick me up, he just grabbed my suitcase without saying a thing at first. But that sarcasm on his face just wouldn't shut up.
"Honestly, I thought you were gonna pull a runaway bride. But here you are, dragging your ass back to me after just a few days, huh?"
"Well, look, the wedding's coming up soon, and I've got a lot of things to deal with. So, don't expect me to give a damn about your drama, got it? Just chill out, and don't even think of running off."
Then, he casually pulled out a stick of cigarette right next to me and lit it up in the car.
I quickly wrinkled my nose and turned away, rolling the window down.
As the breeze rushed in, I took a deep breath to steady my voice.
"Let's drop by the wedding design company."
If I remember correctly, the damn invites should be ready by now.
Peter sneered before stomping on the gas and speeding over to the company.