“But you’re right,” I say. “It’s dumb. I guess emotions aren’t always rational.”
Bella laughs. “I genuinely never thought I’d hear you say those words.” She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “Nothing is going to change, I promise you. Or if it does, it’ll be for the better. You’ll see me even more. You’ll see me so much you’ll be sick of me.”
“Well then, cheers—I look forward to being sick of you.”
Bella smiles. We clink glasses. Then she waves a hand back and forth in front of her face. “So you like him, sorta. Maybe. You’re jealous. We’ll leave it there. Okay?”
I shake my head. “Sure.”
“But he really is—” She starts, and her voice trails off, her gaze with it. “I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like I finally get it, you know? What everyone always talks about.”
“Bella,” I say. “That’s wonderful.”
Bella wiggles her nose. “What’s new with you?”
I take a deep breath. I blow some air out of my lips. “David and I got engaged,” I say.
She picks up her water glass. “Dannie. That’s decades-old news.”
“Four and a half years.”
“Right.”
“No, I mean. We’re going to get married this time. For real. In December.”
Bella’s eyes widen. Then they flit down to my hand and back up again. “Holy shit. For real?”
“For real. It’s time. We’re both just so busy and there’s always a reason not to, but I realized there’s a really big reason to do it. So we will.”
The waiter comes over, and Bella turns to him abruptly. “A bottle of champagne and ten minutes,” she says. He leaves.
“He’s been asking me to set a date for a long time.”
“I’m aware,” Bella says. “But you always say no.”
“It’s not that I say no,” I say. “It’s just that I haven’t said yes.”
“What changed?”
I look at her. Bella. My Bella. She looks so radiant, so high on love. How can I tell her that it’s her? That she’s the reason.
“I guess I just finally know the future I want,” I say.
She nods. “Did you tell Meryl and Alan?”
My parents. “We called them. They’re thrilled. They asked if we wanted to do it at The Rittenhouse.”
“Do you? In Philly? It’s so generic.” Bella wiggles her nose. “I always saw you doing something very Manhattan.”
“I’m generic, though. You always forget that.”
She smiles.
“But no Philly,” I say. “It’s just inconvenient. We’ll see what’s available in the city. “
The champagne comes, and our glasses are filled. Bella holds hers to mine. “To good men,” she says. “May we know them, may we love them, may we love each other’s.”
I swallow down some bubbles.
