Divya's ceremony might not be what her parents were hoping for, but her reception dinner is a thing of beauty. And mercifully she's seated only herself and Raj at the head table, so I'm free to hide in my shell with Lorena, Carla, and Enrique at a small table near the cake display.
And an hour later, we're still being brought food.
"What is this?" Enrique asks as the waiter places something green and cake-like onto the table in front of him.
The waiter doesn't answer, so he turns to me as though I should know.
"What made you think I'm the person to ask that question?" I laugh. "If you'd ever seen me cook, you definitely wouldn't be looking at me like that."
"Knowing how to cook and knowing what food is are two completely separate skill sets," he answers, digging his fork into the strange gelatin-filled pudding.
"That's true," Carla says, mouth full of food. "My mother has very discerning tastes but that woman could burn water."
Enrique opens his mouth to protest but decides against it. One thing he has going for him. He learns fast.
I take the smallest bite and something slightly minty fills my mouth just as the photographer comes to snap some candid shots of us sitting at the table.
"And one more with smiles," he instructs, counting down from three and then unleashing his unholy bright flash on our faces.
"I'm going to be seeing spots for weeks," Enrique blinks, holding onto my arm as if it will keep him from falling over.
"He's taken pictures of us at least fifteen times," Lorena whispers behind her hand. "How many more could he possibly need?"
The man looks like he's used to much larger crowds, and has nothing to do with himself in such a small area. Leave it to Divya to hire someone fancy for an elopement.
My eyes wander the tables to all the happy couples and good friends celebrating Divya and Raj, so I don't notice when Divya gets up and takes the microphone to request we all make our way to the party tent.
Admittedly she doesn't call it the party tent. That's just how we have referred to it since its inception. It looms larger than the dining tent, almost entirely filled with a makeshift dance floor.
"Do you want me to grab you some punch or pop or something before we go over?" Enrique asks. "Water?"
"I'm all right," I answer. "Just a little warm."
"I'll get you a punch. Be right there. You go ahead with the girls."
The cool air of the night stings my arms as soon as I leave the tent, following the flow of the small crowd down the lit path toward the larger tent.
My mind wanders to the stars, visible so clearly in the desert sky. That night under the clearest skies we'd ever seen when Enrique and I had... kissed. It seemed like maybe we were going to be okay, but now. Now he thinks I'm a mistake. Except he's still getting me punch.
I cannot figure this man out.
Probably just keeping up appearances for our deal.
But if that's all it is, why does he want me to go back with him so badly? What's he get out of this?
"Hey, slow poke!" Lorena calls out to me. "You don't find your way in here, we're starting without you." She pauses for a second before calling more loudly. "You too, lover boy!"
I can't bring myself to look behind me, instead fixing my stare on Emiko lacing her arm through Tyrone's and resting her head on his shoulder. Her sparkling silver gown drapes gently down her picture perfect form and rests in a small pile behind her feet. The train looks like it billows out to perfection every time she even thinks about taking a step.
Raj and Divya laugh at some private joke, and the group rumbles with a low roar of jolly conversation.
I make it to the edge of the tent but can't bring myself to step inside. Everyone is enjoying a private moment with someone they love. Even Carla and Lorena are laughing with each other, happily enjoying the single life, it would seem.
There's no time to wallow in my uncertainty, though, because Divya picks up the microphone and taps gently.
"I just want to thank you all so much for being here for our sort of elopement," she laughs and we all join her. "I know it's not been what you expected when I told you Raj and I were getting married but I can't imagine a more perfect day to be here marrying him in front of all of you. Thank you so much."
My hands clap, brain struggling to keep up with everything going on. There was a time when I wanted this. And then a time when I didn't. But now... Now I'm not so sure which one it is. And if I do want it...
I turn to see Enrique at my side, holding a cup of punch expectantly as though waiting for some response. I take it with a small 'thanks' and turn back toward the makeshift stage.
Raj takes his turn to thank everyone, telling stories about his groomsmen and asking his parents and Divya's parents to come forward so we could all thank them for making the match. Enrique's arm snakes around my waist and settles on my hip, warmth shooting through me from every point of contact. I lean into him, just because I'm cold.
It all seems to be winding down when Raj's mom takes the microphone.
"Awe, is this going to be a cute speech about merging their families or an awkward one about how Divya can't cook?" I whisper to Enrique and then again to Carla. Only Carla seems to enjoy my joke, stifling a laugh with a fake cough.
"It is a tradition in our family," Raj's mom says, "to have all married couples present at a wedding provide good luck to the bride and groom by sharing a kiss."
I can't be hearing her right.
"So if all of the married couples here present could join Divya and Raj in a kiss, to a long and prosperous marriage." She turns to her husband and pulls him in for a kiss.
"Huzzah!" Carla shouts, raising her glass of champagne.
"Is it okay?" Enrique asks, gently resting his hand on my cheek.
I don't answer, pressing up onto my toes and wrapping my arm around him, pulling him down for a short kiss.
When we break apart, the whole room is clapping, so I join in.
"May you all be blessed with many happy years," Raj's dad shouts, raising his glass. "Now let's get the party started!"
The band strikes up the opening notes of something upbeat that I've never heard before and the crowd quickly disperses onto the dance floor.
I sip my punch as a distraction. Raj's dad's words echoing in my ears. 'May you be blessed with many happy years'.
Isn't that what I'd always wanted?
Maybe, just maybe, I have a chance of salvaging this whole thing. Maybe I don't have to be yet another Daleman woman to end up divorced. Maybe I don't have to be another Daleman woman at all.
"Enrique?" I ask, turning to face him before I lose my nerve.
"Yes, Bianca?" His eyes reach out to me, pulling me toward him.
"Why do you want me to come home with you?" I ask.
Wait! That's not what I was going to ask.
He sighs, running a hand across the back of his neck. "I thought I said before."
"Yeah, well you said it was because you wanted to give it a real shot but that seems like a pretty weak reason to want to do something as outrageous as this wedding weekend. And I was so wrapped up in getting through this wedding I didn't think too hard about what came next or why you were doing what you were doing but then today happened and—" I cut myself off with a sigh.
He does that irritating penetrating stare, not uttering a single syllable until I finish.
"You said you weren't sure you made a good decision marrying me and we're done with the wedding. It's over. Why do you still want me to come home with you?"
The party is raging beside us, growing louder by the second, so Enrique grabs my elbow and gently pulls me back toward the tent we came from.
I trail behind him, dress blowing in the cool breeze, until he stops and spins to face me, eyes alight with a fiery flicker.
Instinctively, I pull back.
But he doesn't flinch, taking a step toward me and taking my hands in his.
"Bianca." His voice is lower, somehow almost crackling. "I don't know how else to say this so I'm just going to... um..."
Normally I would finish his sentence for him, but the lump in my throat and the fire in my chest don't allow it.
"I'm just going to say it. I think I might love you."
That's it. That's all he says. So we're just standing there in the middle of the pathway setting firecrackers off with our eyes. Each of us is waiting for the other to say something.
"You're—" I don't know what to say to that.
"I didn't mean to say that," he says finally, twisting a knife through my heart.
"I meant it, though," he whispers, eyes falling to his feet and then risking a glance back up to mine.
"I know," escapes my lips. The warmth of his embrace draws me in as he kisses the top of my hair.
I jolt back without warning. "But that doesn't explain why you wanted this in the first place. You didn't know you thought you loved me back when we started this thing."
My head is spinning and I have no idea if I'm making sense, heart pounding in my chest.
"I have... my own gathering," he admits. "And it's possible I also need a wife to attend."
"What were you planning to do about that?" I ask, pulling away and crossing my arms.
"Same thing you were planning to do about Divya's wedding?" He asks like a question. "Fake a very serious illness."
And that is my undoing. Something snaps inside me and I can't stop the laughter from pouring out.
When I finally catch my breath, I put my most serious face on and say, "I was thinking that we should probably discuss what's going to happen after the wedding."
"After the wedding?" He wrings his hands in front of him.
He's kind of cute when he's nervous.