She does, albeit reluctantly. I stretch out my arm and get a good picture of the two of us. I'll post it once we're inside.
We're quiet as we step into the bright, harsh lights of the restaurant. Her complexion looks a little drawn in this light, dark circles showing under her eyes. I hope she's okay with all of this.
"What looks good to you?"
"My normal diner go-to is an open-faced hot roast beef. But today, a BLT sounds like it would hit the spot. Or maybe a grilled cheese? What are you getting?"
I'm a bit more lax with my diet this week, but I still don't want to go overboard. "I think the lobster egg white omelet if the smell won't be too much for you."
"Oh, that's considerate. Don't worry about me." She shifts in her seat but doesn't say anything else.
As soon as our orders are placed, I pull up the photo of the two of us. "Do you mind if I post this?"
She shakes her head but still doesn't say anything. Perhaps she's really not feeling well. I make quick work of posting the picture with the caption, "Iconic city, iconic restaurant, incredible company. The perfect trifecta." I tag Ophelia in the post.
I look up from my phone and she's staring out the window. This does not seem at all like the vivacious, funny woman with whom I chatted last night. I wonder if something happened today to upset her.
"Ophelia," I start. Her head moves slowly, finally turning to look at me. "Is there something bothering you?"
She shakes her head, biting her lip a bit.
"Right then. It's just, well, you seem a bit off."
She stares, her eyes wide. It reminds me of the way an owl looks through you.
I'm starting to get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. What if she's not mentally stable? I'd better have Tony put in a clause to protect me if she goes off the rails.
And while it seemed brilliant last night, I'm wondering if marrying Ophelia is truly a terrible idea.
Chapter 19: Ophelia
I'm acting weird.
I know I'm acting weird, but I don't seem to be able to do anything about it. I mean, how do you bring something like this up? It's not the easiest thing to fold into the conversation.
Are we engaged?
Were you serious about getting married? Because you know we're total strangers, right?
Did you come all this way to get married to me?
Will our babies be as good-looking as you? Please say yes.
None of those seem like good intros. Also, I have to mentally kick myself that it's not like it would even be arealmarriage. Because, obviously, there's no way in hell someone like him would marry someone like me.
Though he did want me in his picture. That's got to count for something, right?
I'm staring out the window and Xavier's on his phone. Perhaps we have this marriage thing down already.
My phone pings with a notification. I glance down, unable to control the reflex. "@XavierHenry3 tagged you in a photo."
Quickly my eyes dart to him. Then, before I can say anything, my fingers are swiping, opening up the app. And there's the picture. He looks great, naturally. I don't look … terrible, so that's a plus.
Iconic city, iconic restaurant, incredible company. The perfect trifecta. Thank you @opheliaxoxo for showing me around! #Boston #NewAdventures
"Incredible company? I'm over here being all awkward and weird. Definitely not incredible," I blurt.
Because why would I say anything normal?
