“Sarah? Is everything okay?”
“I need to ask you something,” I said. “And I need you to answer honestly.”
Silence.
Then, “All right.”
I told her what David had said at dinner. I repeated his words exactly. When I finished, she said nothing for so long that I thought the call had dropped.
“He said marriage made you anxious.”
Then she said, very quietly, “He told us you were the one who didn’t want to get married.”
I closed my eyes.
“What?”
“He said marriage made you anxious. He said he didn’t want to pressure you. He said he was waiting until you were ready.”
A memory flashed through me then, sharp and ugly. Two Thanksgivings ago, his sister had squeezed my hand and said, “You’re lucky he’s so patient.” I had laughed because I hadn’t understood what she meant.
Then she told me something worse.
