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Michael flicked through the channels absentmindedly. “Is this the same Andrew that your mom hates?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes.”
“Didn’t she say that you two used to date?”
“But we didn’t.” I almost couldn’t stop myself from flicking my thumbnail against the pad of my forefinger. The rapid fft fft fft sound couldn’t be heard over the TV show’s loud explosions.
“It’s fine with me, then.” Michael shrugged. “It’s not like you had feelings for the guy.”
A small seed of guilt swirled in my stomach. “Right.”
* * *
The next day, Andrew and I met at a coffee shop in our hometown. As I waited for Andrew—who was running late as expected—I looked around the large room. Baristas scurried about with half-empty containers of this liquid or that, the manic, almost hysterical atmosphere reflected in their eyes. The barista manning the pick-up line pasted a falsely bright smile to her face as a woman gestured sharply in front of her. Looking out the window, I saw a sign boasting FOUR NEW LOCATIONS!Must be a chain, I thought. Definitely not Andrew’s style. I wondered why he picked it?
“This was the only coffee shop in our town that I could find that we hadn’t been to.” I turned around to see Andrew standing behind me, hand on the back of his neck, eyes sheepish, mouth turned down in a sour grimace. “But I know about your love affair with coffee, and I didn’t want to risk our first meeting since…everything”—he coughed—“without coffee, so I chose here. For a fresh start and all that.” As if realizing that he strung too many sentences together at once, he stopped abruptly and shoved his hands in his pockets. I watched him for a moment before looking around again. Finally, I turned to him with what was hopefully a reassuring smile.
“You did good, Minnie,” I said. “Let’s get some coffee.”
We took a few steps to integrate ourselves into the line waiting to order. As I browsed through the menu, Andrew cleared his throat. I met the mischievous gleam in his eye with a frown of my own.
“So,” he said. “Your fiancé let you out the house then.” An uncharacteristic smirk twisted Andrew’s lips. Although, I thought, who’s to say it’s not like Andrew to do that? We don’t know each other anymore.
But did we ever?
“He didn’t ‘let me out.’” I sniffed. “I am free to go where I choose. I chose to ask him.”
“As opposed to sneaking around?”
“As opposed to not honoring his wishes, despite being in a committed relationship.”
Andrew made a noise of approval. “Fair point.”
I murmured my agreement, smoothing my skirt. Andrew frowned slightly, gesturing with his chin at my legs. “When did this happen?”
“When did what happen?”
“When did you start wearing skirts?” He gazed at my legs as I blushed. “Short skirts, at that. I thought you hated your legs.”
I shrugged, tapping my hand against my thigh. “Things change. And they’re not so bad. Michael loves when I wear skirts.” I flushed deeper as Andrew’s eyes met mine with a raised eyebrow. I returned his look with defiance coursing through my veins. Say it. Say that you’re disappointed that I changed for anyone; I dare you.
“Things do change, I guess,” he murmured. His refusal to say it made me avert my eyes. But I should’ve known. He never rose to a fight or picked one. Except that one time.
As I looked out the window to avoid his eyes, I said, “So. What’s new on your end? I’m at a disadvantage. You already saw me struggling with my wedding dress.”
I turned to him just in time to see him smile into his tea. “Yeah, that was pretty great. Would be great to see you in it. I bet you look like a princess.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, a big, poufy princess.” I grumbled as Andrew’s smile grew into a full laugh. “They will roll me down the aisle in a haze of taffeta.”
“I’m surprised that you agreed to it.” He took a long pull of his tea. “The Alicia I knew couldn’t be made to wear any dress, let alone a princess dress.”
So there it is. The judgment. I shrugged, taking a sip of my own drink. “Sometimes, you have to make some concessions.”
“Like marrying a Neanderthal and wearing a dress you hate to an event you wouldn’t be caught at otherwise?” Andrew pulled his lips inward and pulled his eyebrows together. “What happened to you in the last two years, Ace?”
Somehow, the heat of Andrew’s scorn was harder to stomach after a couple of years of not having to. I closed my eyes, counting to ten, before I gave up on that idea. “Life happens, Andrew, and we all grow up. Or some of us do. Life is about making hard choices, compromising for the people we love. So I participate in a wedding reception because my future husband wants to throw a party. So what? I’m not giving up world peace. Besides, that Neanderthal, as you call him, treats me well. We have a great life together.”
“Do you actually love him enough to marry him, or are you just scared?”
