“So, she invited me along to celebrate.” She finally meets my eyes this time and gives me a small, closed-mouth smile. I’m not sure if she’s saying thank you or hello. Either way, it’s not enough.
My family laughs as Everly tells the rest of my family how her new “friend” saved her at the bar. It takes me a few minutes to register the pissed-off voice that is getting louder and more aggressive next to me. Denise. Denise!Shit.
“Henry. You’re staring.”
As I look at Denise, I’m not sure what to say. It’s not even clear what I’m thinking other than I need to talk that woman. How is she here right now? And of all places and of all days? It has to be some kind of joke, or it better be, because laughing is far better than what I want to do right now.
“Are you going to move this along, or am I the one making this announcement, Henry?” I’m on the verge of grabbing Giselle, or whatever her name is, by the arm and out of this place. Demanding answers.
I ignore Denise. “What did you say your name was?” Her gaze meets mine again, her eyebrows raised, likely from the way I shouted across the table and interrupted the conversations taking place. I watch as she swallows her drink, carefully setting it down in front of her. I notice details; I may not see perfectly, but the little things are the ones I’m very good at remembering and recognizing. The slope of her nose. The way she sipped her drink. Pressing her lips to the glass before she tips it, her tongue peeking out to taste before the rest flowed into her waiting mouth. The way she won’t look at me for more than a beat.
She pauses for just a moment, steadying her reserve, or readying her lie. Then, tilting her chin up, she meets my gaze.
“Giselle.”Liar. “But my friends call me G.”
Everly smiles at her new friend. Law takes a swig of his Scotch and soda, eye-fucking the party crasher.I don’t think so, baby brother.Michael picks the label from his bottle of IPA, likely feeling the anxiety rolling off of me and into the room. My dad looks at me curiously, readying to clean up a situation that is starting to feel messy.
Bringing attention back toher, my dad says, “Well, G, you are welcome to join us anytime. I’m interested in knowing how you even found Griff’s shop. His place isn’t really a tourist stop I imagine out of towners buzz about.”
Law interrupts, “You ski or snowboard, Giselle?”
She glances around, as if someone is going to give her the answer, smiling as she replies. “Nope.”
The table basically drops their utensils at that, because rarely will someone relocate to Strutt’s and not have a need to be on the snow.
She takes a sip of her drink, then adds, “I slay.”
Everly giggles and lifts her glass to cheers with G. “Where have you been all my life?”
“Like, you sled? I don’t get it. Like a sleigh ride?” Law looks at her, dumbfounded.
“Sure. That sounds fun. If there’s some boozy hot drinks in there too, then I could really get on board with that.”
Law looks around the table, trying to decipher if she’s kidding, but I have a feeling that she’s serious. She’s not a skier or a snowboarder. She’s a bartender. And a liar.
“Wait, what about snowshoeing or cross-country?” Law asks.
“Not for me. Not unless you’re pulling me while I sip on something hot and spiked. Or if there’s something hot and spiked I could sit on.” She winks.
I can blink back. It takes every muscle in my body not to fall over in a fit of laughter the same way the rest of my family is doing right now.
My dad shakes his head, laughing to himself. “You come to my house for dinner next Sunday. I’ve got some great hot toddy recipes you and Everly can try, and I want to hear all about your new shop. But…” Turning toward my end of the table, he says, “Right now, though, I think we need to bring our attention to the purpose of this special dinner tonight.” He tips his head to me as my cue. “Son?”
I clear my throat and stand. “I know you’ve all guessed why we’ve invited you to dinner here, and not just grilling at Dad’s, like usual.” I swallow around the lump in my throat, but nothing but dry air makes its way down. As I take a breath, I hope this struggle isn’t as visible as it feels. When I let it out, I see her watching me intently. Her eyes sparkling, not only because they’re beautiful, which they are. Some of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen on a woman, but they’re shining, holding back tears. And she’s working hard at it. Schooling any type of emotion from registering across her face, but tears are funny like that; they don’t just go away. They have to fall eventually.
I didn’t imagine this moment feeling this way. Like air was being rationed. Like I was about to make some kind of colossal mistake. Like I’ve just messed up. How could I have known? I looked.Fuck!I searched for her. I can feel my pulse kicking against my skin. My heart beating so fast that I can actually hear it.
I’ve always looked forward to being able to tell my family I was engaged to be married. The idea of living life with someone that you enjoy, maybe even feel like you can’t live without. I always wanted it. The romanticized idea of it keeps people single, though. So I put away that vision of love and partnership and instead focused on what was in front of me. That was Denise. But now, she’s not the only person here anymore.
I feel off. I feel like I’m moving backward. Away, and right out of this moment. Instead, in this moment that is supposed to be happy and thrilling, I’m dreading saying the words out loud.
“Henry and I are getting married!” Denise announces, holding up her left hand and showing off the ring she picked out.
I watch as G leans over toward Everly and then gets up to leave. The pixie grabs her clutch from the floor and smiles at my dad as she tries to excuse herself.
“Henry?” Denise says while squeezing my arm, drawing my attention back. The questioning look on her face guts me. She has no idea what’s just happened. Denise doesn’t deserve this. A partner that wants to leave and take it all back. The ring, the last two years, all of it. It’s not the kind of treatment anyone deserves. I know that. But I need to talk to someone else right now.
I bring Denise’s hand to my mouth and kiss it. Remembering we have two years together and that it should outweigh just one night, years ago. It should, but it doesn’t. Everyone stands up and moves toward us, hollering congratulations, throwing around hugs, and clapping handshakes. My eyes shift to see if the party crasher returned. But she hasn’t. It’s been longer than a quick bathroom break, and I can’t let her leave.