That’s my idea of happily ever after.
When she reaches my side, she extends a hand. Tugging on it lightly I draw her against me as the band moves into a slow number. Anya sighs and rests her head on my shoulder.
The unmistakable smell of vodka wafts past my cheek and I chuckle. No wonder I couldn’t find her for a while.
“I see you found the bar. Maybe I should have snuck out with you.”
She smiles but it looks slightly strained. “I just needed to escape that stupid bouquet toss.”
Then I understand. Weddings seem particularly designed to torture single women. Even though single men gather for the garter catch, no one gives you shit if you sit it out. Because no one really cares that much. Women don’t see
m to get that same consideration.
No wonder she left.
“We can get out of here in a bit. I think they’re going to cut the cake soon.”
She nods and her arms tighten around my neck. We dance like that in silence for a few minutes and just as the song changes to another slow melody, Anya gazes up at me.
“Do you ever think about where we’ll be in a few years?”
There’s something dangerous about the way she’s looking at me right now. Any man who has been in a long term relationship or, I don’t know, ever known a woman, is aware that the things they say often mean more than what they seem on the surface.
How do I look? translates to Tell me I’m pretty.
What did you just say? is roughly equivalent to I’m giving you a chance to pretend you didn’t just say that.
Most importantly I’m fine never means I’m fine. Usually it means you’ve screwed up majorly and need to figure it out fast.
But all my years of experience give me no help translating what she means. Anya is usually pretty open about what she wants and is not the type to drop hints.
None of that is stopping my woman radar from going off.
Danger ahead.
Danger ahead.
Proceed with caution.
“Sure I do. I really think that Mirage will have expanded to more cities by then. You’ve always said that you want to travel more. Paris was fun, right? In a few years, we can do that all the time.”
She sighs. “That sounds amazing. It’ll be just you and me against the world.”
“It’s already you and me against the world.”
“Maybe. I just wonder, don’t you ever want more for us? Like this?” She looks around the room.
I follow her eyes to the bride and groom and what she’s getting at finally dawns on me. “You don’t like weddings,” I stammer finally.
“No, I don’t but I like what they represent. I don’t need a big white dress. All I need is the two of us making promises. Making plans. Sharing everything, including a last name.”
The shock of what she’s saying makes me forget my footwork and we stumble slightly, bumping into the couple dancing next to us. I run a hand through my hair before searching for the door. I have to get out of here.
Behind me, I hear Anya mutter a hasty “sorry” before she appears at my side, rushing to keep pace with me as we dodge the other couples on the dance floor.
I don’t look at her as we make our way out of the ballroom and into the hallway. I can’t come up with words to explain my reaction. Although just that makes me wonder. Why should I have to explain myself? I thought Anya got it. I thought she got me.
“Law, what is wrong with you?”