She smiled.
“I need the steamer and the guest place cards.”
“The place cards are boxed by the sideboard.”
“And the steamer?”
“Laundry room.”
She waited, clearly expecting me to retrieve them.
I didn’t.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Yes.”
A gentle lie.
“Take whatever you need.”
Before leaving, she asked, “Are you coming to the rehearsal dinner tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I listened to her car pull away and discovered that stepping back hurt far more than helping ever had.
For the next two days, I became deliberately peripheral.
When the coordinator called about seating, I handed Greg the phone.
“You know the layout better than I do.”
“It’s Hannah’s wedding.”
He nodded.
“Fair.”
When cake samples arrived, I placed them in the refrigerator without touching them.
When Ethan asked whether I preferred ivory or white candles at the family table, I replied:
Ask Hannah.
I expected Greg eventually to notice that my silence came from hurt.
Instead, while we brushed our teeth Thursday night, he looked at me in the mirror.
“See?”
“See what?”
“Much less stress.”
I rinsed my toothbrush.
“You don’t have to carry the whole world.”
In another situation, it might have sounded caring.
Here, it sounded like he believed he had successfully corrected me.
“You seem calmer.”
“I am.”
That part was true.
Heartbreak becomes quiet after a while.
—
The rehearsal dinner was Friday at a small Italian restaurant downtown.
Family had flown in from across the country. Karen sat near the center of the private room.
Hannah wore the pale blue dress I had steamed.
The pearls weren’t in her hair yet.
Those were for tomorrow.
Before dinner, the photographer began taking family pictures.
“Immediate family first.”
Without thinking, I stepped backward.
Then again.
I moved toward the bar.
Greg looked over his shoulder at me.
Our eyes met.
He gave me a tiny approving nod before turning back to Hannah.
That nod hurt worse than I expected.
I stood at the edge of the room holding club soda while the photographer arranged Greg, Hannah, Karen, grandparents, cousins.
Nobody called me over.
