Page 60 of Married to a Frozen Duke
"Very strange."
"But not... terrible?"
"No. Not terrible."
"Progress," she whispered.
"You and that word."
"It's a good word."
"It's an optimistic word."
"What's wrong with optimism?"
"It leads to disappointment."
"And pessimism leads to misery."
"At least misery is predictable."
"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard."
"Is it?"
"Yes. You'd rather be predictably miserable than possibly happy?"
"I'd rather not have expectations that can be shattered."
"Like expecting a normal wedding?"
"Exactly."
"But now we have a story no one will ever forget."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
She smiled slightly. "It'll be fine. In fifty years, we shall laugh about this."
"In fifty years, we'll be dead."
"Such optimism."
"Such realism."
"Same thing, from you."
They looked at each other in the dim light, and Alexander felt something shift. Not dramatically, not earth-shattering, just... a small change. Like a door opening just a crack.
"Goodnight, Alexander."
"Goodnight, Ophelia."
She turned away, curling onto her side and after a moment, he did the same.
The rain continued as the inn settled into nighttime quiet. And Alexander lay there, thinking about progress and silver linings and a woman who snorted when she laughed.
His wedding day was nearly over. He'd survived it, barely. Tomorrow, they'd go to his estate and begin the business of being married properly. Tonight, though...
