“It’s gorgeous. Kind of a silk lily. I know less than nothing about bridal couture and even I can tell it’s perfect.”
“But?” We couldn’t be more than a question or two from the crux of the problem.
“It’s fifteen thousand dollars.”
I let out a low whistle. I had a vague understanding that wedding dresses were expensive. I just didn’t know how expensive.
“That’s a lot. Don’t tell me she set up a Go Fund Me or asked for donations or something?” I was kidding mostly but still relieved when Charlotte giggled.
“No, she can afford it. So can the guy she’s marrying.”
“You like the guy. The dress, although expensive, is perfect and your friend can afford it. Why are you worried you’re the asshole?”
“I haven’t gotten to that part yet.”
I was tempted to laugh at the drip of information, but she looked so miserable. I opted for another forehead kiss instead. She snuggled in against me, and I rolled onto my back, pulling her with me and tucking her head under my chin.
“Just tell me what happened. Or we can keep playing twenty questions, if you’d rather.” I was okay either way as long as I got to hold her. But I could tell whateverhappened with her friend really bothered her. I wanted to help if I could. The urge to make Charlotte feel better was as strong as the urge to make her come. Stronger maybe, but I wasn’t choosing if I didn’t have to.
“She’s a brilliant author. She just signed a contract on her first book. She used part of her advance to pay for the dress. She can afford it, but it makes me crazy to think of her spending money from her work on a dress to marry some guy who’s probably just going to make it harder for her to work.”
“He doesn’t want her to work after they get married?” That was some draconian shit, but guys had done worse over the years. Still, I had trouble imagining a friend of Charlotte’s tying herself to a guy who expected her to give up her career for him.
“No, he supports her writing. He thinks she’s brilliant too.”
That seemed like a good thing, but she still sounded miserable.
“You’ve got to help me out here, cher. Is it that the dress is too expensive? It would be better if he helped pay for it? The crystals are sewn on by nimble-fingered children fed scraps of bread to keep them going? Explain the problem to me.”
“I don’t know what it is.” She buried her head against my chest, and I got what I was sure was an extremely rare glimpse at insecure Charlotte. “I don’t know why it bothers me so much, but it does. And I wasn’t subtle about it. I made sure she and all the other bridesmaids knew how I felt about it. I think that part tips it into asshole territory.”
I hugged her tighter and pressed my lips to the top of her head.
“Okay,” I said, framing my words carefully. The woman in my arms wouldn’t appreciate me pulling my punches but that didn’t mean I had to reverse-AITA things. “Let’s look at it in pieces. Did you say anything deliberately hurtful? Try to wound your friend on purpose or steal some of her joy?”
“No, of course not. I love her.” She propped her chin on my chest, hitting me with the full force of her gorgeous blue eyes. I had to remind myself not to get distracted. “I had a knee-jerk reaction and said the words before I thought about how they would make her feel.”
Blurting out whatever she thought without considering the consequences felt as out of character as insecure Charlotte.
“Sounds like your intentions were good. Even if what you said made you a little bit of an asshole, it ought to be an easy enough fix, right? Apologize. Explain you were just looking out for her and let your mouth get ahead of your brain.”
“That’s the problem. Not the apology part. I have no problem owning up to things when I’m wrong. It’s the explaining part where it goes off the rails.”
Any progress we’d made toward shifting her expression away from miserable disappeared.
“How so?”
“I’m not sure Iwasjust looking out for her. At first I thought I was protecting her from something, but the more I think about it, the more fucked up it seems. She bought a beautiful dress she can afford to marry a man she loves. One who clearly loves her. There’s no reason for me to have an opinion about it, let alone be bothered by it.”
“Why are you?” If the question had a simple answer, she wouldn’t have needed me to talk through it with her, but it was a place to start.
“I don’t trust any of it.” Her voice sounded small.
I resisted the urge to comfort her, afraid any movement on my part would stop her talking.
“You’ve seen a lot of marriages end. It makes sense that would inform your opinion of things.”
“It does, but I think it’s more than that. Even in the marriages I know that seem to work, one person—almost always the woman—takes a back seat to the other person’s career. Especially if there are kids involved. Sometimes it’s deliberate and other times it’s more gradual, but it always seems to happen. Alex wants kids. The guy she’s marrying is partner at a major law firm. It’s not hard to imagine whose career is going to take a back seat.”
