“Twila,” Joey calls out with a laugh, Dallas’ proximity and the margaritas we served obviously dulling her social anxiety, “did you ever tell Emerson the nickname you gave him in your phone?”
Twila narrows her eyes at her best friend as she shakes her head, and when she looks over at me, her expression is nothing but angelic. When we agreed to use nicknames, I put a lot of thought into giving her the name “Daisy.” And it just occurred to me that she never shared the name she chose.
“You never posted any screenshots of our text messages,” I tell my wife, the words laced with suspicion.
“It wasn’t intentional,” she says with an innocent expression. “I just never took any I wanted to post.”
“Lies!” Joey chirps with another laugh. “You sent me one and asked if you should post it.”
“Shut up, Josette,” Twila growls out of the corner of her mouth, but Joey’s on a roll.
“I’ve still got it,” she says, pulling out her phone.
Twila hops out of her seat and rounds the table, but Dallas runs interference, blocking her attempts to snatch Joey’s phone out of her hands. A few seconds later, my phone chimes with an incoming text from Joey, causing Twila to desert her attempts to get to her bestie and turn her ninja moves on me.
I barely manage to hold her off while I get the text open, seeing a screenshot of a fake conversation we had back before we went to Las Vegas. I tap the photo to enlarge it so I can see the top, and my eyes widen.
“Oh, my God,” I say, laughing. “Are you a time traveler?”
Twila huffs and goes back to her seat, saying, “Maybe I am.”
“No, you’re not,” I say, grinning at her so widely, she can’t stop herself from smiling back at me. “That was some hardcore manifestation, right there.”
She rolls her eyes at me, but her smile remains as the others start demanding to be let in on the joke. I stand and hold my phone out, moving it from right to left so everyone can see the name at the top.
“Future Husband,” I say proudly. “Hit the nail on the head with that one, Daisy.”
She rolls her eyes again, but when they refocus on me, they’re shining with love and devotion. She mouths the words, “I love you,” and I mouth them back.
This is my life now. I’m the luckiest man on the planet, and I owe it to BingBang, tequila, and a few drunken bridesmaids.
And God, what a great life it is.
