Page 9 of The Sound of Silence

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I wish she was here. I miss her,” I said, unable to mask the melancholy that settled over me. My mother was an only child like I was. My grandparents had passed before I was born, and I had no aunts, uncles, or cousins to speak of. Until today, I never really appreciated what it meant to have a big family—to be surrounded by loved ones on one of the biggest days of your life.

“It’s natural to miss her—especially on a day like today, but I wouldn’t worry about not knowing anyone else. These big weddings are really all about how much is in the gift envelopes, anyway.”

I looked at him in surprise.

“Well, that’s a callous way to look at it.”

“Is it? I mean, today is really all about you and your new husband. Tomorrow, none of those people will matter. It’s all about you and the life you’re going to build together. I don’t think that’s callous but knowing what really matters.”

“I suppose,” I said contemplatively.

“Perhaps someday, I’ll find the right person. I want a woman who I can cherish—where the sun rises and sets on her happiness, you know? I was once told I’d meet the woman I was meant to be with when I least expected it.” He paused and stared at me intently, curiosity clouding his eyes. “Maybe I already met her and just don’t know it yet.”

A flush began to rise up my neck, unsure of the meaning behind his words.

Did he mean me?

Surly, that’s not what he meant. We’d only just met. Nevertheless, I couldn’t deny the peculiar way he looked at me—or the unexplainable butterflies that danced in my stomach at his words.

I watched him carefully, taking in his features for the first time. His sandy brown hair was wavy, bordering on curly, and cut short as if he thought he could tame the unruliness by shortening the length. His skin was the color of golden honey, like a Coppertone beach tan, from spending a healthy dose of his time outdoors. Although the lighting was dim, I could almost make out the color of his eyes. They were light brown, hazel perhaps, but I wasn’t close enough to distinguish the color of the little flecks that glinted when he smiled… at me. It was a roguish grin, like he had a secret only he knew.

As if there were a magnet between us, our bodies turned toward each other, and we shared a held breath. The force of the pull blocked out the crickets, the faint music from the banquet room carrying through to the outside, and all the other sounds of the night. My stomach clenched again with those mysterious little butterflies. They swirled deep in my belly. He was looking at me so intently, his gaze traveling from my face to the curve of my breasts rounding above the sweetheart neckline of the strapless dress. The heat that had begun to rise up my neck flooded my cheeks.

Clearing my throat, I quickly shifted my body back to face forward and gave myself a reality check. I was only hours into my marriage. I had no business looking at another man like that. He was a total stranger. I sure as hell didn’t know what had come over me. I wasn’t the type to have a wandering eye. Perhaps it was just the fatigue I felt from an emotional day.

“Yes, well… um,” I stuttered. “Maybe whoever told you that was right. After all, I metmyhusbandwhen I least expected it.” I emphasized my words in a way that would remind him, and me, I was very much a married woman.

“Is that so?”

I chanced another look at him to see he had one curious brow raised as he waited for me to continue.

“Yeah, I did. I was being harassed by a drunk customer at the restaurant where I used to work,” I explained, then went on to tell him how I met Ethan. I gave him the abbreviated version of course, but he listened attentively, nonetheless. “On that first coffee date, he asked questions and wanted to know all about me. I told him my favorite color was pink and that I loved daisies. From that day forward, right up to the day he proposed, a pink daisy would be waiting for me at the beginning of every shift. He said the flower was to remind me he’d always be looking out for his girl.”

The stranger cocked his head to the side curiously.

“You said until the day he proposed. What happened after that? Did he stop giving you the daisies?”

“Oh, no. I still received them, just not at work. My husband didn’t want to wait long to get married, and putting on a large wedding is no easy task. He talked me into quitting my job, so I could focus on all the planning. Once that happened, he sent the daisies to random places. Sometimes they were at my apartment, and one time, there were daisies waiting for me with the seamstress who was altering my wedding dress. It was places like that.” I paused to gaze out across the courtyard. Of course, there were pink daisies in the clay pots lining the wall of the building. They weren’t in season, and I half wondered if Ethan arranged for them to be there. I smiled and looked down at the gold band interlocking with my engagement ring as I wrapped up the story of my fairytale romance. “We are a tale as old as time.”

“I’m waiting for you to add the words ‘happily ever after’ somewhere in there,” he teased.

“Well, things are pretty perfect,” I admitted.

“Then I’ll say it again—he’s a lucky man.”

We both fell silent for a time, the space feeling awkward. The bewildering spark that had flickered between us instantly extinguished after I told my story, and for that, I was relieved. After a few moments, he spoke again.

“So that’s it for you? I know we just met but you don’t strike me as the type to be content with being a kept woman.”

My head snapped up to look at him, annoyed at the implication.

“Who said anything about being a kept woman?”

“Well, you quit your job, right? Do you plan to go back to work, or do you want to be a kept woman?” he asked with a what-the-hell-shrug.

I bristled at his use of the phrase for a second time. I wanted to be offended, but I understood how he drew his conclusion.

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