The door slams shut a moment later, leaving me lost in my head, still pressed against the back of the couch with the taste of Griffin’s lips against mine.
He’s already assigned the end date in his head.It couldn’t be clearer.He’s packed our time together up, labeled itSummer Dalliance,and filed it somewhere he won’t have to look at it again until next year.
And here I am, staying in Bayshore, following my dreams, making all the space he’d ever need to permanently reside in my heart…and he has already closed the door on his way out.
Claire is radiant on her wedding day.
Not that I expected anything different.Claire has been radiant her entire life, but today, she is on a whole other level.She comes down the aisle in ivory silk.Paul cries like they do in the movies.I’m standing at her side with the bridal party, dabbing my tears and trying to keep it together.
The wedding is on Briggs Bay in late afternoon, and then the bridal party and family photos happen just at golden hour on the bay.Everything is magical, like where giant bumblebees are settling on flower petals and cardinals are resting on people’s shoulders-style magical.
All my loved ones are here.Every time I find Griffin in the crowd, he’s already looking at me.Like he can’t keep his eyes off me.I make a decision as we transition to dinner: I’m going to slow down time as much as possible tonight.I want to be here for every second of this event, try to savor it as much as possible.
Because this feels like the last night when everything was almost perfect.
The night when the final grains of sand slip from our hourglass and mark the end of the summer.
My last chance to see if Griffin and I are truly on the same page.
Griffin is at my side as we move beneath the string lights crisscrossing the patio.He is the perfect, handsome date.Everyone knows him and loves him.And I feel a special type of euphoria being on his arm.He dances with my mother; he talks to my father about the marina expansion for a half hour straight.My father doesn’t even talk tomefor a half hour straight on a normal day, but he’ll open up to Griffin unprovoked.I don’t get it, but I’ll take it.Griffin holds my hand to guide me when we move between tables, and he puts his hand on my lower back when he introduces me to someone that he happens to know from the hockey world.
I take it all in.
What if this was meant to be?
I’m savoring.Relishing.Basking.
This might be the last chance I’ll feel it.Griffin seems content to let all of this go.He won’t talk about hockey season and us in the same breath.They are two separate entities that cannot comingle.
Oil and water.
I’m not focusing on that now; not when there are toasts and speeches and a never-ending schedule of wedding delights.By the time everyone is moving to the dance floor at dusk, Griffin looks ready to join them.
“You coming with?”He holds out his hand.
“I can’t say no to you,” I tease, putting my hand in his big paw.I mean that in more ways than he meant it.But it’s true.As we’re crossing the venue to the dance floor, an older couple stops me—Paul’s aunt and uncle, I think.
“You two have been a dream tonight,” his aunt gushes, squeezing my wrist.“When’syourwedding?”
I run my tongue along the inside of my cheek, looking over at Griffin.I’ll let him answer this one.
“Right after I retire from hockey,” he says with an easy grin.His hands are on my arms, guiding me to the dance floor.
When we’re out of earshot of Paul’s aunt, I say, “What?Are you serious?”
“I panicked,” he says with a laugh.“I didn’t know what to say.”
I send him a look as he pulls me against him on the dance floor.We begin to move slowly to the music, our bodies pressed together.
“I don’t think you’re ever getting married.”I say it as a test.
“No?”
“You’ll be playing hockey for the rest of your life,” I remind him.“And if hockey can’t exist with marriage, then, well…”
“Maybe the right person changes the math,” he replies.
I look up at him.He’s looking over my shoulder, out toward the lake, like he said it without meaning to.
