Page 32 of Fractured
He guides me into a turn, and I look up at him, knowing that I may never get the chance to be honest with him or with myself. I search his eyes, looking for something that tells me he doesn’t feel the same, that I am the only one who feels more than I should.
The words break as they quietly leave my lips. “I wish it were different, Ronnie. I wish for so much, but... I was born first.”
He stops dancing, holding us in position as other dancers move around us. He gives me a shaky smile and says, “And I wish I wasn’t born last.”
He moves back into the steps of the dance and we remain silent as we glide around the dance floor. My throat stings from holding in the tears and the painful admission we just shared. I blink fast to stop the burning, a half hiccup leaving my lips as I try to stifle the sob struggling to burst free. I look up at Sebastian and his blue eyes have a slight sheen to them; the rims of his eyes turn red. He moves in for the last turn of the dance.
The song ends and we stop, breaking apart, our hands at our sides staring at each other, our secret left on the dance floor.
“Thank you for the dance, sister.” He turns and leaves the banquet hall as I stand alone on the outside of the dance floor, watching him leave.
Anna steps up beside unaware of what just took place between me and Sebastian.
“If these Russo men fuck like they dance, you’re in for the ride of your life tonight, Izz.”
Anna laughs as she hands me a bottle of water, and I fight back tears as I look back at her.
“Hey now, none of that, Izzy.” She wipes my eyes as she takes my hand, weaving me in and around the tables, making me sit at an empty table far off in the dim corner. She pulls out a chair and sits down, holding my hand as I take a drink.
“You’re doing great, really. I don’t think too many wives would have had the poise and grace you did if their husband of two hours told the world he could never love her through a song.” She scrunches up her entire face. “That’s fucked up, but typical if you think in Alexander’s terms.”
She stomps her little foot and lowers her voice.“Me man, no love! Protect, shove food in a woman's face, lock her up!”
I chuckle, “Pretty much.” I look down, absentmindedly peeling the soggy label off the bottle of water.
“So? Are we still dick-riding tonight? You can back out if you want, but I’m planning on going through with my end of the bargain.” She punches my shoulder and waggles her eyebrows. I flick a balled-up soggy piece of paper at her.
I chuckle at her, “Your way of making me laugh is really twisted you know.” Sighing out, “Yours actually likes you. Thatmakes all the difference. It does to me anyway.”
“I guess.” She puckers her lips, her eyes light up like they do when she has an idea. “Come with me for a second.”
She grabs my hand and I follow her to the snack tables beside the bar. She snatches a plate off the pile and begins to load it up with my favorite treats. Lemon squares, butter tarts, cannoli. She makes a big bun of meats and cheese.
She loads it up like she’s feeding a three-hundred-pound man. The guests in line give her questioning looks. She’s so tiny and her plate is so full. She passes me a bottle of water and I hold it.
“All right, come on.” She leads me to the back of the room, where she takes a peek around. I feel the same way, and when I scan the crowd, nobody takes notice of us. Anna pushes the door open with her hip, dragging me behind her. We’re in a narrow corridor, and Anna hip-pops open another door, and we’re in the hotel’s main hallway. She moves a few steps down the hall and nods at the closed door to the sitting room where we had gathered earlier. I open it, and we enter the dark, quiet room.
She drops my hand and closes the door behind us, puts the plate on the table, and flicks on a lamp on the side table. She takes my hands and points to the loveseat facing the garden.
“Sit.” She leaves me and turns off the lights in the entire room. The garden is glowing and shimmering with twinkling lights, and I sigh. It’s like a nighttime fairy land.
I turn, and she is standing at the door. “You stay here. Watch the world in slow motion and snack as you devise your plan of escape. Moohhahahah!” She smiles and hunches her shoulders.
“You need a break, Izzy. I’ll come to get you if you’re needed. All the wedding bullshit is over with. It’s just drinking and dancing now.”
“Fuck, I love you.” Is all I can get past the lump in my throat.
She laughs out loud, “Well, look who’s learning to use The F-Word. I’ll be back later.”
She winks and closes the door, and the room goes dark once again, the lights from the garden twinkling in the breeze. For the first time today, I can breathe. I pick up a lemon square and the tart taste tingles my tongue as it takes all the spit out of my mouth. I squint and reach for my water, taking a sip.
I kick off my shoes, hike my dress up onto my lap and sit cross-legged on the couch. Taking the enormous tray of snacks and putting it on my lap.
For the first time, I feel alone, safe with my own thoughts. I was always alone at Alexander’s house, but I always felt like someone was always watching my every move. It made me on edge and I was never comfortable. But in this room right now. I feel content in my solitude watching the night sky sparkle and dance, blissfully alone to nibble on my snacks and relax.
I sit back on the soft couch and munch on my bun. I should stop eating, but that butter tart looks so good that I just can’t resist. I’m chuckling to myself as I take a sip of water. I feel like a little girl who stole a tray of goodies from my parents’ party and is hiding in my room to pig out before I get caught.
I move the plate to the table, and then, curling my legs up and resting my head on the arm of the couch, I hug a pillow to my chest and watch the lights flicker. It’s the most peaceful I’ve felt in years and I close my eyes. I just need to rest for a few minutes and then I’ll head back to the wedding.
