I wanted to say a lot.
Instead, I asked, “How long have you been planning a wedding?”
She looked embarrassed.
“He said waiting would just create drama.”
“Two weeks.”
“Two weeks?”
“He said waiting would just create drama.”
“From who?”
“My family.”
I had blamed the distance on work; now I wondered how many choices had stopped feeling like hers.
I took a breath.
“What did you want?”
She didn’t answer.
That answer scared me.
Until then, I had blamed the distance on work; now I wondered how many choices had stopped feeling like hers.
She left the wedding dress over a chair.
At my apartment, Tina changed into sweatpants and one of my old T-shirts.
She left the wedding dress over a chair.
The shoe sat beside it.
I made tea neither of us drank.
Finally, she said, “It was supposed to be romantic.”
“Eric said we didn’t need anyone else’s approval.”
I sat across from her.
“Tell me.”
She twisted a tissue around her fingers.
“Eric said we didn’t need anyone else’s approval. He said a private ceremony would prove we were serious.”
“Where?”
“A small venue outside town.”
“He said we’d tell everyone tonight.”
“Who was there?”
