Page 102 of That Fake Feeling
“Doyou want me to look?”Roseasks.
“Please.”
Shepicks it up and freezes.
“What?”
“Oh, shit.”Shepunches her thigh. “Shit, shit.Shitty-shit-shit.”
“What?What’shappened now?”
“Thepictures are out.AndSterling’sfound them before we did.He’ssent you one.”Herpanicked face turns to me. “Andhis message says, ‘Yay!AWedding!’”
Mystomach drops as ifI’djust driven us over the hump of a bridge.Thisis exactly whatIdidn’t want.
Nowwhat?
It’snot fair to putRosethrough this.She’sdone such a great job, she deserves to be able to bow out gracefully now, not get dragged in deeper.
Irub my forehead. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“He’snot serious, right?”There’san edge of fear in her voice. “Hecan’t think we’re actually going to get married because of a stupid photo, can he?”
“Honestly?”Ireach over and take her hand. “I’msure neither of us would be surprised about anything he might expect.”
Rosepulls her hand away and drops my phone into the center console.
“Weare not getting married.Youunderstand that, right?”Shefolds her arms across her chest. “Therewas absolutely nothing in my contract about even being engaged.Iwould never, never in a million years or for a million-dollar payout, marry you.”
“Well, that’s nice and clear.”Thesteely knife she just plunged into my chest couldn’t feel any colder or stabbier. “I’mflattered.Thankyou.”
“Imean marry you as ajob.Notthat you’re not marriable.”
Okay, that’s better. “So, youdowant to marry me?”
“Ofcourse not.Butthat’s not the point.We’renot even…”Shesighs and turns away from me to look out of her side window. “Oh,God,I’mtired, and you know whatImean.”
“Yup.Loudand clear.”Withbells on, and fireworks and claxons going off.That’sall my questions answered.Shedoesn’t even see a pretend long-term future in this, never mind a real one.
Nowwe’ve hitMidtown, we’re suddenly crawling along in the early evening shadows of the buildings.Great.Wemight be trapped in this awkward silence for a while.
Weinch along besideMadisonSquarePark.Myoffice is just on the other side and looks out over the lawn, a popular spot for wedding photos.
Aswe grind to a halt, bride and groom, bridesmaids, and what looks like the best man and the happy couple’s parents, spill out of a stretch limo.
They’rea bundle of smiles, laughs, and affectionate camaraderie.Thebest man says something to one of the bridesmaids and she taps him on the head with her bouquet.Thebride bends over to fix her shoe and her new husband smiles and checks out her ass.Andone of the mothers straightens her husband’s tie, then pats him on the cheek as if to say, “Allgood now.”
Butthe most touching thing of all is how the bride and groom look at each other.It’smore than just the fun and excitement of the big day.It’sthe genuine love in their eyes, their obvious connection, which, even from this distance, is tangible.
Youcan’t fake that stuff.That’sreal, it’s special, it’s the thing everyone hopes they’ll be lucky enough to find.Andit’s to be respected, not diminished, with a fake engagement.
Thecar behind me honks.
“Didyou nod off?”Roseasks, pointing at the space that’s opened up between us and the car ahead.
“Theopposite.”Ipull forward and close the gap. “Imight have just woken up.”
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