It felt normal. Safe. That was why I chose that moment.
I set down my fork.
“I don’t want Italy or a ballroom or two hundred guests.”
He looked up. “No?”
I shook my head. “I want something small. Just family. Maybe a backyard, maybe a courthouse. I don’t care. I just think after ten years, I’d like to make it official.”
He put his fork down, leaned back, and gave a short, cold laugh.
His face changed so fast it shocked me.
He put his fork down, leaned back, and gave a short, cold laugh.
“I’m never marrying you, Sarah.”
The room seemed to sharpen around me. Someone at another table laughed too loudly. A server passed with a tray of drinks.
I said, “You don’t have to say it like that.”
He shrugged. “Better than dragging this out again.”
“Marriage is a useless piece of paper.”
