To say that dinner was tense was an understatement.
Elizabeth seemed to get along fine with the Millers – perhaps too well. The three of them talked politics and their backwards take on social issues, generally getting on like Emily had feared they would... They seemed confused, though, as to why they were there.
And in spite of their best efforts, neither Emily nor Alex seemed able to broach the subject, whether reticent from fear or lack of surety, it was hard to say.
In fact, they seemed to be actively avoiding the matter. And each other...they could barely even meet each other's gaze in favour of staring awkwardly at their plates as they pushed their food around without eating any of it. Not for Alex's lack of trying, though, her efforts to offer Emily an encouraging smile going unnoticed.
In the middle of dinner, Emily excused herself to go to the washroom and, seeing an opportunity present itself, Alex quickly followed suit with an apology to their parents and a demure expression.
When Alex pushed the door open, she found Emily leaning over the bank of sinks, splashing water on her face with shaky hands. "Are you okay, Jo?" she whispered.
"You tell me," she said, deadpan, not turning to look at her.
"Wh-what?" she stammered. "I... I don't understand."
Finally, she rounded on Alex, eyes blazing. "You and James seemed awfully friendly when we pulled up..." she said, almost apropos of nothing.
"Is that what you're upset about?" she asked, quizzical.
"What was he even doing here?" Emily snapped.
Brows furrowed, confused and concerned, Alex took a cautious step forward. "Sheer random happenstance, believe me."
Her expression made it clear she did not.
"It's not like I sought him out," Alex pressed on, perhaps a little hysterically. "I don't understand why we keep having this fight."
"Because he likes you!" she snapped. "And he obviously hasn't received the message that you're not interested!"
"Well, what would you like me to do then?" Alex finally lashed out, throwing her hands in the air, "Send him a notarized letter?"
"I don't care how you do it, just get the message across! Hire a sky writer for all I care – just tell him no and make it stick!"
"Why the hell are you so jealous!?" Alex demanded. "I love you, okay? I just don't understand..."
"Because you have a life-raft..."
For a moment, she stared at Emily, dumbfounded. "A what?"
"A life-raft," she repeated, "A 'just in case'. A back up. In case we don't work out."
Her expression turned ice cold. "How dare you suggest that I'm not as invested in this relationship as you are! That I haven't sacrificed as much as you have – that I don't have as much to lose!"
"Then prove it: make things clear with him and maybe I'll believe you," she challenged.
Alex pursed her lips, huffed a breath through her nose. "If you don't trust me, then I think we need a break," she said, deadly calm.
"A break?" Emily repeated, for the first time seeming unsure. "A break from..."
"From us, Emily. From being together."
If she had anything further to say, it was interrupted by the bathroom door swinging open, her mother storming in. "Everything alright, ladies?"
"Fuck my life," Emily texted Derek.
"Well, that was a tremendous waste of time," Elizabeth muttered, purposefully loud enough for Emily to hear as she directed their driver to bring them home.
"lol wtf did you do now?"
Emily ignored her mother's pointed remark, remaining grimly focused on the screen of her phone. "Alex and I are over."
"lmao don't fuck with me..." Derek texted back.
"I'm not fucking with you," she replied, scowling even though he couldn't see it. "She said we needed a BREAK...if that's not broken up I don't know what is."
"Are you listening to me?" Elizabeth demanded, "Emily? You demanded I attend this dinner with your so-called friend and her parents, then you spend the entire meal sulking and barely say a word."
She rolled her eyes. "Terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you," she said sarcastically. "I thought you might be interested in my life, but obviously I was mistaken."
"You don't need her," Derek insisted. "Fuck her. Figuratively obvs since you already did that literally."
"Fuck you," Emily snapped. "I still love her and I need to get her back."
"I don't need your attitude, Emily," Elizabeth sighed impatiently, almost condescendingly. "I wasted an entire evening indulging your little whatever this is..." She gestured vaguely at the entirety of the situation. "I could have spent tonight negotiating with the French Ambassador and instead I squandered it away on your frivolous teenage drama."
"Gee, thanks for the support, Mother," she sassed back, still staring at her phone as it squawked with another incoming message.
"Bitch, she dumped you – time to move on, Princess." His message was accompanied by several suggestive emoji, leaving no doubt what exactly he meant by moving on.
"I don't want to move on... I need her."
"Stop texting and listen to me!" Elizabeth demanded. She might have snatched Emily's phone out of her hands if Emily hadn't been one step ahead of her, moving it just out of her reach.
She growled, whipped her head around to face her mother and fix her with a glare that made it entirely clear what she thought of her authority. "God, Mother! It's all about you, isn't it? I couldn't possibly be going through something and need support from my mother right now...not that you've ever once given me that."
"What do want from me, Emily?" Elizabeth scoffed. "Because I've given you everything and it's still not enough!"
"I guess everything is my fucking fault then, isn't it? I'm just not enough for anyone and I'll be alone forever! Is that what you want? Is it?"
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "God, you're dramatic. Just like your father."
Ignoring her mother once again, she texted Derek, "I'm picking you up and we're going to get shitfaced. I can't handle this break up sober..."