Andy entered, resplendent in a tan summer suit, holding a small white box in his hands.
“Can you … ?” She gestured to the back of the dress.
He blinked and set the box down on the bed. “Of course!”
She felt his hands at her back, his fingers guiding the zipper upwards to close securely. She closed her eyes and tucked the memory of the sensation away, to remember after he was gone. “Thanks.”
He opened his mouth as if to speak.
She thought he might thank her again.
Instead, he handed the box to her. “Here. I got this for you.”
Erin opened the box. Inside, she found a corsage of fresh pink roses accented with a single salt-and-pepper-colored feather.
“Do you like it?” he said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
Erin lifted the corsage and inhaled the scent. “Of course I like it. Where did you get this?”
“I stopped by the rose garden at Destiny Park early this morning. They’ll never miss a few roses here and there.”
“A normal person might have stopped by the florist.”
“I’m not normal. Or a person, technically.” A bashful smile touched his lips.
She cradled the corsage in one hand and ran a finger over the feather. “No, you’re not. But I think that’s what I like about you.”
At the ceremony, Andy could hardly sit still. Between shooting judgmental looks at Mark and Genevieve, and subtly checking on Erin out of the corner of his eye, he was a very distracted demon. Was she happy to be moving on? Unhappy to be reminded of past suffering? Andy considered removing Mark’s pants one more time, just for good measure.
Honestly, the way Mark was sweating, it seemed like he was doing a fine job torturing himself. Genevieve looked a bit nauseous, too, although whether that could be chalked up to her pregnancy or proximity to someone like Mark was anyone’s guess.
“All get what they want,” Andy quoted under his breath. “They do not always like it.”
Joyce, who was seated on the other side of Erin, leaned over. “Did you say something?” she whispered.
He shook his head and tried to convert his demonic smile into something more angelic.
When the pastor announced, “You may now kiss the bride,” Andy snuck another look at Erin.
Her face appeared serene. Only around her eyes could he detect a hint of sadness. But what was she sad about? Mark’s remarriage? Or could it be—something else?
She’d said she would miss him. She’d said she wanted a friend.
Could it be? Andy looked at her again, this time more directly.
She noticed. She smiled at him—and the sadness became clearer.
Andy barely noticed the bride and groom retreating down the aisle.
When the guests left the sanctuary for the reception hall, Andy followed Erin and Joyce. As the crowd mingled, he spotted a familiar face.
Make that two familiar faces.
Phoenix, dressed in an unusually conservative suit, and Raya, wearing an uncharacteristically demure dress, swanned through the reception hall as if they belonged there.
Andy slipped away from Erin and Joyce to intercept the wedding crashers. “What are you two doing here?”
“What does it look like we’re doing?” said Phoenix. “Loading up on the free drinks.”
