“Of course I do.”
“Then why aren’t you doing anything?! Did you even send out the save the dates?”
“I already told you I did.”
“I don’t even know if my dad will come; he hasn’t replied. Are you sure you sent him one?”
What Luc says is true; his dad hasn’t contacted me about the wedding either. If he had, I would have said something to Luc to calm his nerves. But now that we’re on this subject, I think I can see us getting to the root of the problem: Luc’s stressed about his father.
“I definitely did. He has it; I know he does.”
“How do you know?”
Great question. I quickly make up an excuse. “Because I checked the address three times.”
“Then you can’t know if he has it! Unless you work at the post office,” he says cynically. “Have you switched careers and not told me?”
“Of course not. You’re just really tense, baby. It’ll all work out, I promise.” I step toward him, reaching out for him, but it doesn’t have the effect I’d hoped for. If anything, it does the opposite. He takes a small step back.
“Don’t patronize me.”
I sigh. “Honestly, Luc, what’s this all about?”
He gives me a cold stare. I expect him to continue talking about his father, but he doesn’t. “It’s about how I seem to be the only one who cares about our wedding day!”
“Are you kidding me?!” I scoff at him. “You seemed ready to plan the whole wedding when I was away!”
“Because someone has to!”
I sigh. “I’ve been at work, Luc. I’m busy.”
“So am I!”
“Not the way I’ve been.”
He balls his fists, and his jaw clenches and unclenches. We’ve been together eight months, so it was bound to happen sometime: our first fight. Given everything that happened with us moving to a different country and dealing with everything, I think we were able to postpone it for a pretty long time.
I can almost see him go through responses in his mind. I didn’t accuse him of not working hard, and I won’t, but we both know he hasn’t been putting in as many hours as I have. Also, I make more money than he does. We both know that too, but it seems like a bad idea to say it out loud.
“At least I give people joy with my job! I feed them. All you do is make more money for a bank that already has too much of it.”
I don’t like that he has a point there. “So what, now you hate my job?”
“I hate the fact that you’re using it as an excuse! I feel like I’m doing everything! Even when you’re home, it doesn’t feel like you’re here.”
I suck my teeth. “You didn’t hate the job when we used my salary to move here! Because that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? That’s why you’re marrying me, so you no longer have to be poor while living in a city you hated!”
The silence that follows is almost deafening. I think we’re both surprised by my outburst. It wasn’t something I planned on saying. I wasn’t even really thinking about it. But now that I have... I must admit, part of me still fears that’s all I am to him: someone with money who allowed him to move to his favorite city. I told him from the start I wouldn’t be his sugar daddy, but who knows? Maybe I unintentionally became that anyway. Or the other possibility... all of this is nonsense, and I let Luc’s dad get into my head.
His eyes widen in shock, and his lips part. “What did you just say? You think I...” he says in French, softly and slowly. Then he shakes his head, mumbles something I can’t hear, and before I know it, he turns around and storms out of the room.
I consider saying something to stop him, but to be honest, I’m too upset to do so. I can’t console him when I need more than anything for him to console me. And the fact that he’s not denying it, isn’t expressing his love for me right away, makes it impossible for me to be there for him. Because if anything, it seems like a bad sign.
***
Half an hour passes without any sign from Luc. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he left the house, but I’m in the living room, and he’d have to pass me to get to the front door, so I know he’s still here. I just don’t know what he’s doing. Maybe drowning in his misery like I am.
I sigh deeply and let my hand slowly run down my face. Things have really gotten out of hand. I can’t wait to get married to Luc. I think even a stranger could see that. But maybe Luc’s right, and I’ve been avoiding the topic of our wedding. Maybe, deep down, I’m more than happy to have Luc arrange it all so that I only have to show up and see that he hasn’t changed his mind in the meantime. That’s not what’s happening, is it? Because if it is, then Luc was right, at least about some things.
