Chapter 2

He looked at me, silent for a few seconds.

Finally just patted my shoulder. "Yeah, being a bridesmaid's exhausting. Get some rest."

"Vivian said she can't get a ride. Not safe for a girl alone at night. I'm gonna go pick her up."

"Okay." My voice was flat.

He didn't move right away.

Like he was waiting for me to tell him to be safe like I usually did.

Or pout and complain about him going out this late.

But I didn't.

I got out of the car without looking back, ignoring the frown on his brow.

I collapsed on the couch the moment I got inside.

Stayed there a long time before dragging myself toward the bedroom.

Passing by that "nursery," my steps faltered.

We'd designed this room four years ago when we bought the place, for our future child.

Now it was just filled with junk.

I walked in.

Pulled a thick stack of stuff from the dusty crib.

His handwritten love letters, movie ticket stubs, amusement park passes, Polaroids from trips together...

The one at the bottom was from college graduation.

He was carrying me on his back under a cherry blossom tree, my arms around his neck.

My long hair and the petals flying together.

On the back, his messy scrawl: "I'll carry you for life. That's a promise."

The dim light from the living room hit those words coldly.

Like a silent mockery.

Downstairs, the faint sound of a car pulling into the garage.

I froze but didn't move, just listened.

Keys turning the lock, footsteps deliberately quiet.

After a while, the door cracked open.

He stood in the doorway. "Still up?"

I didn't turn around, still crouched by the crib. "Yeah."

"Why'd you dig all this out?" he asked, tone casual. "Feeling nostalgic?"

I didn't answer his question, just asked quietly, "Did you get her home safe?"

He paused, then explained, "Yeah. She lives far out. Hard to get a ride there."

"Oh." I lowered my head, carefully stacking the photos back, putting them away.

"It's late. Let's sleep." He said it again, this time reaching out to pull me up.

I didn't take his hand, just pushed myself up with my knee.

"Dante."

"Mm?" His steps paused.

"Let's break up."

He stopped, looked at me for two seconds, then laughed.

Reached up to loosen his tie. "Still thinking about the bouquet? Don't be petty."

His tone was like humoring a bratty kid.

"Fine, I'll order you a bigger one tomorrow, alright? Now go wash up and sleep. I've got a sit-down with the Colombo crew in the morning."

He turned toward the bathroom.

"Within a week," I said to his back, voice quiet, "I'm getting married."