Page 11 of Dark Verse

“Thanks,” we both say at the same time.

The shared gaff sends us both into light-hearted chuckles, the minor tension I was feeling breaking.

“It’s actually their reception,” I explain. “They decided to elope a few weeks ago.”

“Smart,” he nods, “Skip all the pressure that comes from planning for a year or more for a one-hour event, and skip over the pretense that it’s not about the party.”

“Speaking from personal experience?” I ask, curious. He’s definitely a good-looking man, and the lack of a wedding ring means nothing, especially for people working in the music industry.

“No, but I’ve been to plenty of weddings. And to the divorce parties too.”

“Ouch.”

“Most everyone is only there for the party, including the bride and groom sometimes.”

“Hmm…” I tap my chin in thought.

“What?”

“I can’t decide if that’s extremely cynical or just plain ol’ astute observation on your part.”

Knox smiles, his full lips pulling back to reveal straight, gleaming white teeth. He has a small gap between two of his teeth, giving him a more boyish look.

“Two things can be true at once.” He pauses before saying, “But you shouldn’t listen to me. I’m out here sounding like a regular old killjoy. Weddings are happy occasions.”

“They are…”

Knox’s expression changes, his eyebrows drawing together.

“You sound like you need a little convincing yourself.”

“No, they are,” I say quickly. “And I am so happy for Dove. She and RJ have been through a lot, and I’m thrilled they are starting their lives together.”

“But…” Knox prompts.

Maybe it’s the liquor. Maybe it’s that after that conversation with Eve and Jeremy, I’m feeling strangely vulnerable in the moment, and this man seems to want to listen. Maybe because sometimes it’s actually easier to tell the unvarnished truth to a total stranger. Whatever the reason, I let my thoughts and emotions gather into words and come out.

“It’s odd being the older sister at a wedding reception I planned. Everyone seems to want to know when I’m getting married. Like now that Dove has done it, I should be doing it too. Never mind the happily single part, never mind the focused on my career part. Never mind half of them told me all my life to wait until I was at least thirty to ever consider any of that stuff. It’s all marriages, mortgages and baby making in there.”

“Funny enough, I remember the same wait till you’re thirty speech. There is nothing magical between 29 and 30 that makes you more ready for marriage, I promise you. You’re just as likely to choose the wrong person.”

“Can confirm,” I say.

“And being with the wrong person…well, as long as musicians have been writing songs about falling in love with the right person, they’ve been writing songs about what it feels like falling for the wrong one. It’s like you’re always almost where you want to be. Always waiting for that exhausting contradiction of being with them to resolve.”

I look at him, feeling suddenly exposed under his gaze but not at all uncomfortable. It’s like he peeked into my past and knew exactly what to say.

“Yeah. Not unhappy, at least not at first. But already frozen by something. Unable to grow in some fundamental way. Guarding your words, sometimes guarding your own thoughts and needs.”

Knox pauses, his gaze seemingly intensifying for a moment.

“Yeah.”

My observation brings on a long silence. The air remains full of sounds, yet between us it feels quiet.

Wanting to lighten the mood, I say, “So it’s official, the new marriage age is no longer thirty. It’s now and forevermore forty.”

The intensity in his eyes subsides as he chuckles.