Page 54 of All Our Nevers

Six blank stares respond, plus one Sophie-grin and one Sophie’s-mom-grin, which is basically a mirror of Sophie’s.

“Okay, great. In that case, I’ll hand things over to Marsha to talk us through the ceremony.”

The rehearsal itself is easy. Pretty standard stuff. We walk in, Nolan says things, blah blah blah, you may now kiss the bride, we walk out. I did suggest to Sophie and Andy that someone pre-read Nolan’s speech before tomorrow, but they both said they trust him—Andy more reluctantly than Sophie—so I guess we’ll all be surprised.

From my position behind Sophie at the altar, I make note of the specter glowering over Andy’s shoulder.

God, Owen can be such a fucking downer. I guess that’s another thing for me to deal with today.

When Marsha dismisses us, and I check that our decorations and supplies are safely locked away in the board room, I catch our party as they walk out of the venue doors and start heading towards the restaurant. The moms are chatting with each other, which is adorable, and I told Nolan that if he ever saw Sophie’s dad looking lonely or confused that he was his responsibility. So, like the obedient dog he is, Nolan is happily chatting with Mr. Lindell. Sophie and Andy are talking to Sophie’s mom’s boyfriend, which leaves Owen to me.

Good. I need to get that scowl off his face before Andy notices it.

“Hard day at the office?” I ask dryly of the man lingering behind the rest of the group. We fall into step, each footfall precise as I fight to keep my black stilettos from snagging in the Boston cobblestones between here and the restaurant.

“Something like that,” Owen replies, bluntly disinterested.

“Okay grumpy, what got your panties in a twist today?”

“Amelia, please, I’m not in the mood.”

“Maybe if you had a real job like I do you wouldn’t come home so depressed,” I say. “You know, they say in a few years we won’t even need lawyers? AI will do it all.”

The obvious rage-bait doesn't manage to ignite anything in him.

“Why don’t you tell me about your day,” Owen says instead, not quite a question.

I jolt at the pivot. “What?”

“Will you please tell me about your day?” he asks this time. “I’m exhausted and I don’t want to think about mine.”

He’s staring down at his feet as he walks. No spark, no insufferable cockiness. I’ve never seen him so… sad. Angry, yes. Annoyed, absolutely. But not sad. I’m not really sure why it bothers me so much.

I think about what Sophie would do in this situation. She’s so good with things like this. She’d probably tell some stupid story that’s completely off-topic until the mood is light and we forget whatever we were talking about before. But I’m not used to being the de-escalator. I’m usually the escalator. So I blindly fish for the first topic that comes to mind.

“Well, I’m in talks for a sponsorship deal with a handbag brand from Italy. They’re pretty low-end for Italian fashion, in case you couldn’t tell that from the fact they’re advertising on Instagram, but my audience will hear “Italy” and not know the difference. And the brand is desperate for an American influencer who speaks the language, so I have a lot of negotiating power.”

Apparently I’m worse at this than Sophie, because he doesn’t reply.

“Okay, really. What’s up with you tonight?”

He doesn’t reply, again.

“Hey.” I step in front of him, blocking his path.

He bumps into me then jerks back, finally meeting my eyes.

I ask, “What happened?”

“Just focus on the wedding. Don’t worry about it.”

“Too late. I’m worried.”

He steps around me, but I grab his arm and spin him back. We’re nearly to the restaurant now, so time is of the essence.

“Look, I know you don’t want to talk to me about whatever this is, but I can’t let you in there like this. Tonight has to be perfect for them, so if you’re not gonna talk about it because you want to, then I’m gonna force you to talk about it for Andy’s sake. Okay?”

He shocks me when he replies, “You know I don’t do this job because I like it, right?”