I suppose it’d been around the last two or three top one hundred songs when it all finally hit.
This was almost over.
Like everything, every little moment was done. No more circulating every bridal shop known to man. No more late-night runs to craft stores looking at tulle and other kinds of stuff far beyond the male psyche to even be able to comprehend or understand. No more 3 a.m. phone calls to see how she’d been. To determine if she was stressed or had everything she needed. The bride wasn’t stressed anymore. She had it all.
And I finally had to let her go.
I’d stayed away most of the night, keeping to myself. I told myself it was to make sure everything flowed well. I was the go-to guy, the one people came to if the happy couple needed absolutely anything. I was basically the best man without technically being the best man. The actual best men I hadn’t seen half the night either, but that was because they were either helping themselves to the bride and groom’s booze or their own girlfriends. I mean, that’s what they should be doing. That’s what normal people should do. All the planning and shit was over. It was time to have fun now.
My fingers played against glass, the condensation on my beer bottle long gone. Who knew how long I’d been holding it. Even still, I sucked it back, hot yeast traveling down my throat in a lump. I’d managed to make this beer last the whole night, some kind of weird record, I was sure.
Swirling it around, I watched the final dances on the floor, the crowd long thinned out. People started dipping out after the cake cutting and opening dances. Now, it was just the ride-or-dies out there, the bridal party and a few other younger girls and guys like me. I watched friends both old and new have a good time under glistening lights, the winter theme of the event in full swing. It actually appeared to be snowing in the reception hall at one point, mostly a strobe light effect I’d been told.
I just knew it suited the new couple perfectly, hard not to get lost in all the magic and wonder of this place. Windsor House, the wedding and reception’s location, had some history, but tonight, it wasn’t about any of that or the trials and tribulations of the past. It was about everything but that.
“Can I have this last dance?”
It was about dark hair and brown eyes that twinkled under those snowy lights. It was about her, the blushing bride.
Who also just so happened to be my best friend.
Leave it to the woman of the night to find me of all people for her final dance. I’d been trying to do everything but stand out.
Grinning, December waved her hands at me, the epitome of the most gorgeous bride in the world. She’d changed into a shimmering gown, making her look like a mermaid the way the precious silk glided along her frame. Elegant as hell, she attempted to convince my loner ass into a dance like she knew I’d been trying to lay low all night. Light touched her dark eyes. “Come on. We don’t have long.”
We didn’t have long. Really, this was it.
I think that’d been the only reason I put my beer down, shaking my head before taking her hand. I was the damn guy and wouldn’t let her have this one.
A spin and I had her out on the dance floor, taking her close but only just. I was well-aware her new husband was around here somewhere, and I wasn’t trying to get my ass kicked. Prinze could be a territorial motherfucker, and where I might normally poke at that, I didn’t tonight.
Tonight, a lot of things were different.
Tonight, I made myself be at peace with events from the past. That this was what December and I were now. We’d been friends for a long time, since high school, but with states between us and our lives on different trajectories, it’d been really easy to pass off old ways. At least, for me. It’d been easy to say this girl was just my friend. I hadn’t had to see her every day.
I hadn’t had to feel this every day.
Her in my arms, her close and rehashing old shit that didn’t need to be rehashed. I almost told her no when she asked me to be her man of honor. I mean, there’d been more