Malcolm pauses the video. “This jog your memory at all?”
I finally tear my gaze away from the tablet to glance sidelong at Eleanor. Her head is tipped toward mine, but she won’t meet my eye. The space between us feels charged. Magnetic. Like I could reach out and she’d mirror my movement.
I’ve spent a significant portion of the day wishing last night never happened. Right now I’d give almost anything to go back—not to change what happened, but to relive it and actually remember this time.
Eleanor clears her throat and the tension between us snaps. Her poker face is back. “That was clearly an accident.”
Malcolm lifts one hand in a concession, and then there’s a knock on the door. He gets up slowly—seems like everything Malcolm does is at half speed, which makes sense. It probably takes a lot of effort to move all those muscles around. He steps into the hall to speak with another security guard, leaving the door cracked open behind him.
A moment later, Malcolm steps back into the room, trailed by the younger woman I saw out on the casino floor. The bride. She offers us a nervous wave.
“Hey, guys,” she says, twisting the diamond rings on her finger around and around, like she’s not used to wearing them yet. “Um. I’m Andrea. We didn’t really get a chance to meet last night.”
I palm my face and immediately drop my hand, becauseow.
“Are you hurt?”
This is directed toward me, and it’s not likeshedecked me, so I smile tightly. “I’m all right.”
“Listen, I talked to my dad. You totally don’t have to worry about the ice sculpture.”
Eleanor and I exchange another quick glance. “Oh… that’s great. Thank you,” she says.
“No problem. And I would so super appreciate it if you didn’t press charges against him for the whole…” Her diamonds glitter as she does a little shadowboxing, finishing with a wince.
I nod. “Yeah. If you’re good, I’m good.”
Her face floods with relief. “Thank you. I’ve never seen him get angry like that. He’s really embarrassed about it now. As he should be.”
“Weddings are stressful,” Eleanor says carefully. “I get it—he wanted yours to be perfect.”
My gaze cuts over to Eleanor. Hearing the melancholy in her voice, I’m suddenly swarmed with guilt. I’ve been so focused on the inconvenience of last night, and the fallout. But for the first time, it occurs to me that we didn’t just get married last night. We had a wedding. A shitty, unplanned, drunken ceremony that was probably nothing like the one Eleanor has dreamed about. Followed by scraps of cake at a reception that wasn’t even ours.
One day she might get married again. And next time, shecan get a beautiful dress, and flowers, and have her sister there, and I hope if that’s what she chooses down the road, it’s everything she wants it to be. Because she deserves it, and I took that away from her. Feels like shit.
“I’m really sorry about all this,” Andrea says.
“Hey, we’re sorry we crashed your reception,” I tell her. “I really hope we didn’t ruin anything… besides the ice sculpture.”
“Oh no. Honestly I didn’t even notice you guys until the sculpture fell. But it was late; the party was totally winding down anyway.” She grins broadly and gives us another wave before stepping back into the hall and letting the door fall shut behind her.
“Guess that’s settled, then,” Malcolm says, already gathering his tablet and pushing his chair in. “Thanks for your time.”
Eleanor and I get up before he changes his mind, and together we file out into the too-bright hallway. He leads us back to the door and leaves us on the casino floor.
Once we’re alone, we both hesitate, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. Which is somewhat absurd, because this is nowhere near the first bad thing to happen to us in the past twenty-four hours.
“Let’s get out of here,” I say finally. Eleanor is still clutching her half-empty water bottle, the weak plastic crinkling between her palms.
We walk out of the casino and through the lobby in silence, not stopping until we reach a stone pillar a dozen yards away from the entrance. Outside, the sun is hanging lower in the sky than I expected, making all the artificial lights shine brighter. It’s nearly five p.m.—we spent too long in the casino. The band probably doesn’t have much downtime left. IfI don’t leave right now, I’ll miss my chance to see them at the brewery.
Eleanor leans against the pillar, watching as new guests arrive and bellhops move forward to help them unload their bags from the car. My gaze slips down to her tan legs, stretched out long and crossed at the ankle.
She meets my eye and smiles, so radiant it puts the city’s neon lights to shame. She pushes herself upright when I come to stand in front of her, and I shove my hands into my pockets so I don’t do something regrettable, like reach out to hug her.
I match her smile. “What a totally normal and relaxing day, huh?”
Eleanor snorts a laugh that turns into a groan partway through. She laces her hands together on top of her head, elbows pointing out. “At least we managed not to get arrested?”
