I shake my head and let out a long sigh.
“You were with Jen for three years before you met me,” I whisper. “Then for two more years afterward.”
“Just one more year,” he corrects me and I tighten my grip on my Martini glass, stopping myself from throwing it at his head. “Look, I'm not proud of that, but you have to believe me. It was nothing. Jen and I just got into this habit of hanging out together at work. That's all that it was. Some people like to go to the same restaurant for lunch. Other people like to order the same things. We like to have a quickie in the office. It didn't mean anything, for her or for me. She had no plans to ever leave her husband and she never wanted to break up her family.”
“What about you?” I ask. “I know all about her intentions, but what about yours?”
A few people approach the hors d'oeuvres table and it's no longer safe for us to talk here even in hushed tones.
Alex motions for me to follow him out back. At first, I hesitate, but then I see a large group of my dad’s relatives heading in our direction and I quickly escape through the sliding glass door.
When my parents bought this house, it came with a big round pool and an attached hot tub. The view from the house is beautiful, but the pool was an older design with tile all around.
Last year, they had updated it by making it a modern rectangle to match the angular design of the rest of the house. They also resurfaced it with a pebble finish that gave it a more natural coloring.
“This view is magnificent,” Alex remarks, looking out past the infinity edge and how it meets with the spaciousness of the Pacific Ocean below.
“Yes, it is,” I agree.
I had reveled in this view every day for a month when my parents were in Europe last summer. Just because I live in a crappy apartment and refuse their money, it doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate the finer things in life.
“I want to buy a home here with you,” Alex says.
“No,” I say sternly.
“It doesn't have to be here. We can get something in Laguna Beach, overlooking the cliffs. We can get something in San Diego or Santa Barbara. Wherever you want.”
“No,” I repeat myself.
“It doesn't have to have a view of the ocean. We can have a view of the city. Imagine living in the Hollywood Hills with all of Los Angeles sparkling below you.”
I turn around to face him.
The sun has dipped over the horizon a long time ago and the backyard’s twinkling lights dance in his irises.
“You don't get it, do you? I don't want to live with you. I don't want to marry you. I don't want to be with you.”
The words come from the pit of my stomach, originating from some inner strength that I didn't realize that I had.
But when Alex turns his back to me and walks away, tears resurface and slide down my cheeks.
9
Emma
A few minutes later, someone touches my shoulder. I whip my head around expecting to see Alex, but it's my mom. Somehow, that's worse.
“I can't do this,” I say, shaking my head.
She brings her hands over to my face and wipes away my tears.
“Look up and blink. That will make them dry up.”
“I can't stop thinking about this.”
“That's the other secret to not crying,” she jokes. “Not thinking about it.”
“You have to tell people that the wedding is off.”
“No,” Mom says, shaking her head. “The night is almost done. Everyone is having a great time. Why ruin it?”
“This feels like a farce.”
“It is a farce,” she corrects me. “Since when has any party not been that? We are here to celebrate you and Alex. It doesn’t matter if we’re here to celebrate your engagement.”
“What are you even talking about?” I ask, shaking my head.
“You don't have to be so dramatic, honey. You always take things so seriously. Everyone is here to have a good time. We all need a reason for a little party, especially at someone else's expense.”
“So, what's going to happen… afterward?” I ask.
“You and Alex are going to figure things out. If for some reason you do agree to break up, then you can just call all of these guests or even email all of them and tell them that the wedding is off. No big deal. But if you don’t want to wait and want to stop this party tonight, then the microphone is right there. You're welcome to go ahead and use it.”
My mom narrows her eyes. She knows that she's asking me to do the impossible.
I have never been good at public speaking. For everyone else in my family, it seems to come as second nature. They can just take the microphone and make all sorts of statements that make everyone in the room feel good, whether or not they are true.
I can't do that.
I can't even make a basic speech in honor of someone let alone stand up there and tell 200 people why I'm no longer getting married.
Mom walks away and I follow her into the living room.
I take a deep breath. The band is about to start to play and this is the time to do a toast if a toast is going to be done. I know that my mom and my dad probably have something planned. I don't want to hear it.
Cold sweat runs down my spine and I'm thankful for the fact that I'm wearing a black dress that will hide whatever pit stains are inevitably going to appear underneath my arms.
I take a deep breath and take a few steps toward the microphone, but then someone stops me.
It's Alex.
He slips his arm under mine intertwining it just below the elbow.
He then pulls me close to him and whispers, “If you are planning on telling anyone that the engagement is off, then make sure that you remember that all of your parents’ money is invested in our hedge fund.”
I pull away from him, narrowing my eyes.
“Are you threatening me?” I gasp.
“No, of course not. I just want you to remember that our families are already interconnected and I wouldn't want anything bad to happen.”
We both know that it's a threat and I have no idea how to respond to it. Before I can take a moment to decide, Alex grabs the microphone with one hand and pulls me closer with the other.
He clears his throat and calls for everyone to pay attention. When everyone's eyes are up front, the house lights dim and a spotlight focuses on us.
He opens his mouth and starts to tell the audience the story of how we met and what happened the first time he told me that he loved me. The speech is eloquent and punctuated with pauses for laughter and contemplation.
He doesn't make himself look like a saint, but he does make everyone in that room love him because of how much he loves me. Of course, he doesn't tell them about Jen or anything that happened today, but when it's over, I certainly can't.
People are tearing up at his words and his charm and even if I were to suddenly tell them every last dirty secret, I don't think that they would side with me.
The thing is that I don't need them to side with me. The decision is all mine.
I know this. Still, I can’t bring myself to tell everyone the truth.
Luckily, the rest of the speeches are much shorter and more concise. My mom only says a few words and she never says only a few words.