Page 18 of Crystal Iris
“You know what I mean. What do you want to do for your birthday this year?”
“I wouldn’t mind repeating Mexico… I just need to close a couple of deals before clearing a few days.”
“Cancun was fun.”
The waiter brings our food. I’m eating my pasta dish when Aaron suddenly blurts out, “I didn’t get anything for my parents.”
“Are you serious?”
He nods.
“We can’t show up empty-handed, not on Christmas. They already don’t like me as it is.”
“Iris, we’re getting married. You have to let all that go. My parents are happy about us.”
“Accepting it isn’t the same as being happy.”
“You’ve changed. You’re a Harvard professor now. They’d be crazy not to be happy about it.”
“I didn’t change, I just… grew up. Do you think we can find a store open this late?”
“It’s New York City. Let’s enjoy our dinner, and we can get them something afterward.”
“I think this is the best dinner I’ve ever had,” he says with a grin as we leave.
“You say that after every meal.”
“Only when you aren’t cooking.”
I stick my tongue out at him, but it’s true. I can’t cook to save myself.
We walk out of a shop with expensive wine bottles, a card, and some hope that it’ll be enough.
“It’s not like I didn’t buy them a boat six months ago,” he says, taking the bags from my hands.
“It’s because you did that for their anniversary that they’ll expect more than… wine.”
“Whatever. It should be enough that we’ll be there.”
It should be, yet I know it won’t be.
With the city glowing outside, I lie awake, staring at the ceiling, watching the shadows. I can still taste Aaron on my lips—guilty sex does that, it lingers. Even though I didn’t do anything wrong, it was the fantasy of Hoyt that played in my mind as Aaron made love to me tonight. My wedding is months away—how long will it take to sort through my feelings? I love Aaron, I owe him so much, he’s my best friend, since… always. Of course I love him for everything he’s done for me; still,is it enough?Enough to say yes, until death do us part?
“When was the last time you drove?” I watch him fuss with the keys.
“It’s not something you can forget, Iris.”
I laugh at him, and that’s when I finally hear the engine.
“Stupid modern cars,” he mumbles as he puts on his seatbelt.
We’re lucky the snow isn’t sticking to the road. I make sure to remind Aaron to slow down enough times to hear him swear he’s never driving again.
We pull into the driveway, and Don greets us.
“Iris, it’s so good to see you, it’s been a while,” Aaron’s dad says, taking our bags inside.
“How are you, Don?”
