“Don’t get used to it,” he said, grinning.
Dinner was easy at first. He told me about a guy from work whose fiancee wanted a destination wedding in Italy. I laughed. We shared dessert. He reached across the table once and brushed his thumb over my wrist.
I just think after ten years, I’d like to make it official.”
It felt normal. Safe. That was why I chose that moment.
I set down my fork.
“I don’t want Italy or a ballroom or two hundred guests.”
He looked up. “No?”
I shook my head. “I want something small. Just family. Maybe a backyard, maybe a courthouse. I don’t care. I just think after ten years, I’d like to make it official.”
He put his fork down, leaned back, and gave a short, cold laugh.
His face changed so fast it shocked me.
He put his fork down, leaned back, and gave a short, cold laugh.
