He was being clear in his own way, of course. She couldn’t lie to herself anymore about his enthusiasm for her.
But all the same, he was a doctor. And her mother loved him. And fine, maybe he was still making up his mind about marrying her, but that was normal, right? Big decisions took time. Maybe she shouldn’t be pressuring him, given how busy he was. Maybe the pressuring him was the very thing driving him away. Maybe if she just never mentioned their future, the engagement ring would appear on its own as a reward for her loyalty and patience.
Or maybe she had always been kidding herself that she was good enough for him.
By the time she was standing in the lobby of the Art Gallery of Ontario, she was deep in a multi-day spiral of sadness. Did she need to break up with Liam? Was she being too needy? Surely being with Liam was better than being alone. You didn’t break up with your boyfriend just because he was acting distracted and tired. Everyone got tired.
The sight of Ren walking through the doors in one of his old leather jackets lifted her spirits a surprising amount. Here was a friend. A real, actual friend who could talk with her about photography, about books and ideas. She wouldn’t need to think about the other aspects of her life for a few hours. It was a little annoying that Ren was wildly in love right now, but only a little. She was glad he was happy.
“The same leather jacket,” she said. “Now that you’re married, I was assuming you’d have switched to fleece vests.”
“I see you’re still dressing like the quirky lead in an indie film,” he said, taking in her hair, now highlighted a sunny blond, her vintage dress and red ankle boots. His pale green eyes, up close, were such an unreal color that she had do the mental reset that she’d practiced when they would hang out in school: shaking off his stunning appearance so she could see her friend properly. He hadn’t changed much: his black hair was a bit longer, his face less sharply boned. He looked healthier now, like he no longer forgot to eat for multiple days at a time.
“What do you mean? I mostly wore jeans when you knew me,” she said.
“Sure, paired with a velvet jacket and a top hat.”
“The top hat was one time. And your leather jacket was constant.”
He shrugged, giving her one of his crooked grins. “Well, I couldn’t exactly be a rebel without the approved rebel uniform.”
They got into the line together to buy tickets. “So how have things been for you?” she asked. No point in talking about her own life.
“Not bad,” he said, which she translated in Ren terms to mean they were fantastic. “Marriage is good. Work can be a bit dull.”
“I’m trying not to tease you about being married, given your previous position on relationships.”
He looked embarrassed. “Yeah, I know. I was young and stupid.”
“Oh, I know,” Sarah said with a laugh. She was tempted to admit that she had also been young and stupid, but she wasn’t sure that she was any smarter now. She thought about Liam, whose cool rejection stung like a slap.
“Paola wants to meet you, by the way,” Ren added. “She approves of anyone who puts me in my place.”
Sarah raised her eyebrows. “Is that what you told her? That I put you in your place?”
“You were the only person who did back then,” he said, his expression warm.
“Well, let’s see a photo of your bride, then. I’m sure she’s stunning.”
Ren looked somewhere between abashed and excited as he took out his phone. His lock screen was a wedding photo, Sarah noticed, but he took the time to open up his full photo collection, picked one, and handed her the phone.
“Winter hiking in Banff a few weeks back.”
His wife stood alone in the photo in front of a sweeping landscape, dressed in a slim white parka and tight-fitting grey leggings. She was even more stunning than Sarah had anticipated, with golden-brown skin and dark hair in a tight bun, her lips pouty and her cheekbones as sharp and narrow as ski slopes. Her faint smile was directed past the camera toward the stunning view.
Sarah felt a brief flash of worry for him: his wife didn’t seem like she laughed very often, and she remembered him saying his wife had disdain for him.
“She’s gorgeous,” Sarah said.
His eyes lit up as he nodded, and she felt briefly guilty that she’d had any negative thoughts about this woman she hadn’t met. It was jealousy, certainly. Just because his wife was beautiful didn’t mean they were unhappy. Beautiful people could be just as happy as anyone else. It was one of the annoying things about life.
“Let me get your ticket, since I was the one who wanted to see this,” he said as they got to the front of the line.
“You better. I paid for your ice cream at least four times back in school, and you never paid me back.”
“I’ll reimburse you right now…assuming, of course, that you brought the receipts from 2004.”
“They’re in a file with my accountant. You’ll get an itemized list.”
