I dropped down on one of the guest chairs as she moved to the desk.
“Okay. Let’s see,” she said, her long red nails tapping on the keys. “Valentine, Valen… there you are!”
She turned the monitor to me.
And there we were.
“Wait,” I said, zeroing in on myself. “I wasn’t wearing a black dress?”
That was the last thing I remembered: putting on the dress after hooking up with Harrison… then going down to the bar together.
But the woman in the picture I was looking at was wearing a white dress. A whiteweddingdress.
It was a simple one, something even a sober version of me might have picked out. It was white, sheath, with a V-neck and an ankle-length skirt. Nothing too fancy. But very clearly matrimonial.
“Oh, no, dear. You had the most lovely wedding dress.”
We’d stopped for ringsanda wedding gown? How long had we been talking about getting married? And, more importantly, why?
“Here’s the mouse so you can click through it all,” she said, passing it to me.
The image she’d brought up was just of me. Me standing in a lovely rustic barn-type room with about twenty seats and an altar.
And I looked… really excited.
I reached for the mouse and clicked.
Then there was Harrison.
He wasn’t just next to me. We were melded together. His arms were around my upper body. One of mine was around his waist.
We were both looking at the camera.
And we were beaming.
My smile was big enough to make my eyes crinkle.
Another click.
There we were again.
This time, I was still looking at the camera. But Harrison? Harrison was watching me. With a look in his blue eyes that made my heart flutter.
I quickly clicked off that image.
But the next wasn’t much better.
We were gazing at each other.
My hands were framing his face.
And we looked, to any objective outsider, (and even me, who didn’t remember any of this), that we were a couple very much in love. Not practical strangers.
I sucked in a deep breath and clicked again.
It was just a few seconds later. We were in the same position, but our lips were locked.
I didn’t have a sudden memory of the moment. But I did have the memory of his lips, of how he brought me to shivers and butterflies with his kiss.
