Page 261 of ClickBack

“You having a good time, wife?”

“A very good time.”

“You going to keep doing this?”

“There might be more.”

He bends to my ear. “You know we have to leave here together.”

“That was the plan.”

His hand moves to my shoulder. I feel the kiss he puts just below my ear, and have to remember that somebody on my other side is waiting for an answer about cake.

The fourth comes while we are standing with friends near the windows. Nina passes it over, and I watch him draw the picture halfway out, take in what it shows, and slide it back into the envelope.

He looks across the group at me and mouths, You’re wrong for that. I lift my glass. He puts the envelope inside his jacket and starts toward me.

“I need my wife.”

Bellamy laughs before he reaches me. He takes my hand and brings me close, kissing me in front of everyone. I hold on to his jacket and hear the room respond around us. When he lifts his head, I have completely forgotten the conversation we interrupted.

We dance to the song from Carver’s. He knows it is for him when it begins, and the look he gives me is worth the private arrangements with the DJ.

“I thought you didn’t want this,” he says.

“I wanted to pick the song.”

“You could’ve told me.”

“You could’ve told me about Replay.”

He laughs and brings me closer. We find our way through it, with no steps to remember and no reason to let go when the music changes. Eventually Bellamy takes my hand, Denise joins us, and my husband gives me up to the women.

I dance with my daughter. Zion gets pulled into a circle and becomes indignant when Javon copies his moves. Di takes photographs she promises to send privately, which is enough to make Terrence demand to see one before she leaves his side.

Toward the end of the night, Denise holds me after a hug.

“He’s happy,” she says near my ear.

“So am I.”

She draws back to look at me, then kisses my cheek and lets me go.

Trina waits until the DJ has finished and people are gathering their things. She passes Jarrett the last envelope on her way to the door, giving me a small salute from behind his back. Then she leaves before either of us can say anything.

I watch him open it.

This picture has my face in it. Beneath it I wrote, I took these myself. Every one.

He reads it twice. His eyes find me across the room, and I can feel my own smile become less certain. I have enjoyed surprising him all night. This is the part I wanted him to understand.

He comes over and puts the photograph away with the others. “You did all that today?”

“Before I got dressed.”

“By yourself?”

I nod.