I roll my eyes and bump her back before excusing us from Grandma, who wastes no time hustling into line for the next song. She almost slapped the life out of me while doing the Wobble, so I make sure Janelle and I are a safe distance away for “Candy,” because that woman is absolutely planning to touch the floor. I don’t want to be in the danger zone for it.
“He can look all he wants,” I tell Janelle as we ease into the steps. I don’t know how she’s managing it in a ball gown. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow once our lawyers are on it.”
“So you’re going ahead with the annulment?”
“Of course.” I shoot her a look as I lean and shoulder-shimmy. “It was a mistake, one that I plan to remedy as soon as possible. I’ve got other shit to worry about.”
“Yeah, all right, I get it.”
Based on her tone, it seems like shedoesn’tget it, and it has my frown deepening.
“What, you want me to stay married to him?” I scoff. “Elle, I don’t even know the guy.”
“You can get to know him,” she says innocently.
I could. But I’m sure once he gets to knowme—once he sees the mess I am—I can’t imagine he’d want to stay.
“And just think about how you can rub this in Étienne’s face,” she goes on.
“Right, because spite is the best decision-maker.”
“Maybe not usually, but what he did to you was—” She cuts short to gather what she wants to say. “I just want you to live again, Stella. Because whoever you’ve become, whoever he turned you into…that’s not someone I recognize.”
Janelle’s words hit me so hard that I can’t believe I manage to keep dancing, albeit a little half-assed. It’s muscle memory, I guess. And muscle memory is what I’ve fallen back on when it comes to my entire life lately. I’ve been going through the motions, doing exactly what was expected of me, only to realize I was doing it without thought. Without feeling. Without passion.
Last night, though…That was nothing but passion and impulse and sheer fucking delight.Thatwas being alive.
Mika essentially said she wanted the same thing for me that Janelle is saying now. I knew I’d retreated in on myself some, but I didn’t think anyone had really noticed or hated the change. I thought that was just what growing up looked like. Doesn’t everyone pushing thirty calm down and settle in for the ride of adulthood ahead?
The answer to that is standing right beside me in her wedding dress, tipsy again after a hectic bachelorette party. With her law degree and successful career. With her love for going out every Friday night just to dance and drink martinis. Who married a sweetheart British footballer because she was bold enough to approach him first. If that’s what your thirties can look like, then why have I been so adamant about suppressing the parts of myself that I love?
But staying married to a stranger is one step too far.
“I’m getting back to my old self,” I tell her. “I don’t need a man to do that.”
“No, you don’t,” she agrees. “But there’s nothing wrong with a little help.”
The next dance step has me turning my back to her and my ensuing shoulder shimmy is far less enthusiastic than the ones before. Not even Grandma’s loud laughter can shake the unsettled energy from my chest. And it only compounds when someone moves in front of me, forcing me slightly out of line.
“Stella,” Thomas says, low enough that I barely hear him over the music and merriment. “We need to talk.”
I glance away from him, shifting so that I can keep on beat even though he’s in my way. “I’m trying to dance here, Thomas.”
“It’s important.”
“So is the Electric Slide.”
He grabs my elbow firmly, though not anywhere near enough to hurt, but it makes me look up at him, taking in the concern written across his annoyingly handsome face.
“The news is out.” He takes a breath, then confirms the worst, even though deep down I already know. “The world knows we’re married.”
Chapter 10
Thomas
My wife is furious.
She’d be even more upset to know that I’m referring to her asmy wifein my head. Even my stomach churns at the idea. But that’s what she is, whether we like it or not. And it would appear Stella’s still leaning toward thenotoption.
