Page 181 - In Five Years

“David—” I start. I exhale. “The florist ordered us three thousand gardenias.”
“What for?”
“The wedding,” I say.
“I’m aware of that,” he tells me. “But why?”

“I don’t know. Some mix-up at the florist. They’re all going to be brown by
the time we take any photos. They last for like two hours.”

“Well if it’s their mistake, they should cover the cost. Did you speak with
them?”
I take my napkin and fold it over my pants. “I was on the phone with them
but had to hang up to deal with work.”

David takes a sip of water. “I’ll handle it,” he says.
“Thanks.” I clear my throat. “David,” I say. “Before I say this, you can’t get

mad at me.”
“That’s impossible to guarantee, but okay.”
“I’m serious.”

“Just say it,” he says.
I exhale. “Maybe we should postpone the wedding.”
He looks at me in confusion but something else, too. In the back of his eyes,

behind the pupils and the firing optic nerve, is relief. Confirmation. Because he’s
known, hasn’t he? He’s suspected that I’d let him down.
“Why do you say that?” he asks, measured.

“Bella is sick,” I say. “I don’t think she’ll be able to make it. I don’t want to
get married without her.”
David nods. “So what are you saying? You want more time?” He shakes his

head.
“That we postpone till the summer. Maybe even get the venue we want.”
“We don’t want this venue?” David sits back. He’s irritated. It’s not an

emotion he wears often. “Dannie,” he says. “I need to ask you something.”
I stay perfectly still. I hear the wind outside howling. Ushering in the
impending freeze.

“Do you really want to get married?”
Relief sputters and then floods my veins like a faucet after a water outage.
“Yes,” I say. “Yes, of course.”