Breaking Point

Chapter 20

Ian peeks his head around the corner of my bathroom. “You ready yet?" I finish attaching the pearl clips in my hair and take a look at myself. “You know, I do believe that I am ready.” I turn to face him, my hand casually resting against the cool bathroom counter. “Are you?” Ian steps fully into the door frame, and as he does so his beautiful eyes begin to look me over. He starts at the white heels that my feet are currently encompassed in, the ones that have white strings traveling up a little ways on my legs.

His gaze jumps up to the base of my dress, the one freckled with pink flowers and travels up to the pink sash sitting tightly around my waist, the color in the exact shade of the flowers. Ian glances over the white sleeve straps. I had decided to not wear the pink over shawl that Sharon had offered to provide. A good amount of my shoulders are showing, but the weather is pleasantly warm, so I am not concerned about getting chilly. “Are you?” I repeat the question as Ian continues to look at me, his eyes on my face. “Hmm. I do not believe that I am ready.”

Ian responds quickly, his words similar to my own. I pull my hands away, leaving them to lay on the front of my dress. “Why not? You look very handsome now. What else do you have to do to get ready?” And he does look very smashing. Ian is dressed in a light grey suit, one that tries to pull out the grey flecks in his eyes. And succeeds. Underneath, his bright white suit is standing out rather well, right underneath his bowtie. It took him a little longer for me to convince him to stick with the grey bowtie instead of his half-tie. I smile lovingly as I look him over, much in the way that he first did to me. Ian reaches out his soft hands, taking the both of mine in his own. “I can’t be ready, because I can’t compare to how beautiful you are.” I’m waiting for him to add the right now to the end of his sentence, but he doesn’t. He simply stops with that, his full lips leaning forwards to gently touch the tip of my nose, confirming it.

I shrug my shoulder, unable to respond to his ever sweet nature as I smile up at him. I slip my hand tighter around his until my fingers sit between his. “I think we should get going. Its going to start soon and I don’t think Alec will like it if we’re late.” Ian pulls me out of the bathroom. “I don’t think he will. Or anyone else. They’ll simply jump to conclusions about what kept us.” He winks at me once we’re outside, and I slip into the car, blushing.

More than half of the radio stations only play Christmas songs now. They start in the middle of November and stop around the last week of December. It’s really nice, and helps the two of us get into the festive mood. As the final round of Baby Its Cold Outside finishes up, we’ve reached the studio. I know it almost never snows here, but for once, it would be nice to step out onto a snow covered terrain. Maybe I should move to Idaho once I graduate. Or maybe just visit it during the winter months; I’ve heard that certain areas get rather snowy.

Ian’s arm is held out to me and I take it more than willingly. He holds me close to his side and keeps me there as we walk towards the front doors. The moon shines above us, full and gorgeous. There have to be a multiple of stars out, but here in the middle of the city, its so hard to see them. You really have to strain your eyes. The night air is cool, but not too chilly. Its.. just right for a night of a Christmas party. There’s a good sized amount of vehicles that surround the parking lot, but we are the only people out here. Everyone else must be inside.

And as we open up the doors, the light streaming out to meet us, I see that my judgment is correct. Everyone is inside, and each is wearing a white mask that covers the top of their faces. My boyfriend and I look over at each other for a moment before we step fully into the room. I can’t help but wonder if we missed the memo. Each guest turns to look at us, and a feeling of being exposed comes over me. A man in a dark navy suit, his brightly colored hair slicked back, comes over to greet us.