“How long have you been with your husband?” I ask.
“Almost twenty years. We met in college in our second year and got married right when we finished. So we have been married for eighteen years.
She doesn’t look as old as she’s saying she is. That would make her forty. I know how touchy the subject of kids can be, so I bypass it and ask about their wedding. The way that women should light up when they talk about that day she does, but as the conversation gears towards their anniversary celebration, she becomes dull.
“God, I hope we make it that long,” Farrah says.
“I will be happy to make it two years in a relationship,” I say.
Rowan cheers to that. We ask Sahara if she has any advice.
“You guys are doing it right. As much as I love my husband, I wish I had waited until I knew myself more to get married. It’s hard to figure out who you are when you’re already a part of a ‘we’. My identity is intricately interwoven with his, and a lot of my self-worth is determined by his opinion of me.”
Rowan flinches at that before grabbing Sahara’s hand. Farrah and I both look at each other, understanding how sad that sounds. The way she puts it, I never want to get married then. I don’t think it should be that much of a sacrifice.
“Do you need him?” I ask, wondering if what my dad says is true.
“I don’t know.”
Somehow, that’s less comforting than I thought it would be. I hoped that if she did need him, it would prove my point that it’s unhealthy. But if that’s what loving someone without need looks like after twenty years, then I don’t want it.
“I’m trying to figure out if I even still want him.” She takes a big sip of her wine and then asks what we are going to watch next.
I convince them to watch the sequel, which is way better quality than the first one. Somehow, through all the bloodshed and slaughter, Farrah manages to fall asleep. Sahara and Rowan stay curled up, and I can’t keep my eyes from going back to them.
In the short time they have known each other, there is clearly a fondness that has grown. They look so comfortable, it almost makes me feel like a third wheel. Surprisingly, there is only one person I wish to have here with me.
“Well, that’s it, folks,” I say when the movie comes to an end.
Farrah pops up and swears she was just resting her eyes, causing us to laugh. I tell her to go to my room. and show the other two out.
As I watch them get in their rideshare together, more questions come to mind.
Before I can walk upstairs and join Farrah, my phone rings.
“You could have just texted back,” I say, settling on the couch.
“Now why would I do that when I can hear your beautiful voice?”
Callahan’s voice is addicting. I never thought I would find the Boston accent sexy, but the low timbre and subtle rasp make his voice one of my favorite sounds.
“What did you do tonight?” I ask.
“I cried because you didn’t invite me to your slumber party.”
I laugh and wish he was here so I could push him. “What did you actually do?”
Pulling the blanket up around me, I get comfortable.
“Worked. Nothing fun. Talked to Ma and convinced Declan to come visit. I think he would like it here.” There is this longing in his tone.
“You miss them, huh?”
“More than I thought I was going to, but this is also good for me. I feel like I get to start over and be myself without everyone already knowing about my past. Not that I’m ashamed to tell people. I just get to choose who to tell.”
And he chose me. It makes me wish I was more open with him.
“Maybe I need a fresh start.” I sigh out the words.
