In Other Words (Niall Fanfic)

Chapter Seventy-Nine

“If you insist.” I said, halting at the red light.

“Don’t bullshit me, Horan.” She turned. “You know you want to fill that bottomless pit of yours. I’m giving you an excuse.”

“I get to pick where we go after.” I said, waiting for her to protest, but she didn’t.

She would.

Roxy’s POV

The stack of empty plates at the end of our table was growing, both of us attempting to sample everything that was available; rows upon rows of serving stations offering up sushi on tiny red plates, king crab legs, hand-carved prime rib, and an endless array of tiny desserts. On my latest trip, I’d piled my plate with strawberries, macaroni and cheese, a warm dinner roll and a crème brûlée, and slid in next to Niall, shoving him along the bench and toward the wall and reaching across the table for my drink.

“Talked to Maura a couple of days ago.” He said, shoving a forkful past his lips.

“Don’t call your mother by her first name.” I said, splitting my roll down the middle.

“That’s quite the plate you’ve got there.” He said, taking notice of my odd combination of foods, gesturing with his fork.

“Reminds me of college. Dorm food.” I smiled. This was about the furthest thing from the slop they served us in the Caf.  “So…your mother?”

“The wedding.” He sighed.

“Whose wedding?” I filled my cheeks with pasta.

“Our wedding, babe.” He said, not letting me skirt. I felt bad, and a little nervous. I had the feeling that Maura may have picked up on my hesitancy, my general anxiety about the whole thing. It wasn’t that I didn’t want a wedding, and it definitely wasn’t that I didn’t want to marry Niall. I couldn’t wait to marry him. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my entire life.

“I know.” I said. “I’m sorry. You’ve got enough going on right now, you don’t need your mother calling about that.”

“It’s not like that.” he said, setting his fork along the side of his plate and turning to face me directly. “What do you think she said?”

“Ni. Don’t quiz me.” I muttered.

“She just said that whenever she brings it up, you…”

“Flake.” I finished for him. “It’s true.” He didn’t speak for a few moments, and I just looked at him. He was searching my face, and I tried my best to sort what I’d say.

“Why?” he asked finally. I half-expected him to plead with me to be honest, to tell me he could handle it.

“It’s just too much right now.” I blurted. “I’m so focused on the pub, and I feel like if I were to break concentration to try to take on the wedding stuff, that one or both would get screwed up. There’s only so much I can do, you know?”

“I get it, babe.” He said, letting his hand fall to my thigh where it traced along the pattern in the fabric. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of that. It’s hard not being around…I feel like I miss out on a whole lot of…”

“Context?” I said.

“Yeah, I guess.” He looked upset, which made me angry with myself. I thought eventually I would find a way to balance all of this stuff, and he would be none the wiser. “We could hire someone; a planner…they have those right? It’s not just the movies?”

“I don’t want that.” I said softly, wiping the condensation from my glass with my thumb.

“I know.” He said. “Bad timing, huh?” I felt a little like shit. I didn’t want to have this conversation at all, let alone on his birthday.