It’s impossible to be near her and not touch her. I know she hates the attention. In my years of watching Tova, I have observed that she can be shy until she gets to know someone. I hate that I have to put her through this spectacle. That’s what this is. It’s all for a fucking show.
We cut the cake, and this time she feeds me a bite. I have never been one for sweets, but the buttercream of the icing tastes different when Tova brings another bite to my mouth. I greedily take it, wanting to make her happy.
‘Do you want to leave after our dance?’ I ask Tova.
My father, I’m sure, would prefer that I make a few rounds to mingle and be courteous, but at this point I couldn’t care less. I’m still pissed that he’d invited some of these people.
Tova looks like a damn dream. Her wedding dress is breathtaking. Her shoulders are bare, except for delicate straps that sweep across her upper arms. The top part appears to be a corset with tiny buttons in the back. It molds to her body, accentuating her curves. The creamy white lace with lace flowers that go all the way down to the floor gives it a timeless look. It’s as though it were made with her in mind. When she walks, I swear she looks as though she’s floating.
I’m not sure how I managed to prevent myself from walking down the aisle and meeting her midway. Yes, I do. All the peering eyes, all pretending to be friends when they are not. I also wanted to allow her father to walk her down.
I don’t know if having her father walk her down the aisle was a dream of hers. I know she’s close to her parents. This isn’t the wedding she wanted, but I could try and make it bearable for her. This whole day has been bittersweet.
My fingers brush up her back, grazing the buttons of the dress. Will she need my help taking it off? I see Tova’s father heading toward us.
“Need an answer, little mouse. Your father is closing in. Do I tell him to fuck off?”
“No.” Her lips turn up into a smirk. “Be nice.”
“I only have to be nice to you.”
“Well, be nice for me.” She peers at me through her lashes. “Please.”
“For you,” I agree. “Corbin,” I greet him when he reaches us on the dance floor.
“Would you mind if I cut in?” I do mind.
“No, Dad. I’d love that,” Tova says before I can say anything. I nod reluctantly, letting her go. I don’t get far before my mom is asking for a dance. I do it because it will not only make her happy but it will also piss my father off. He’s waiting to get me alone to have a few words. I’m not interested in talking shop tonight.
“Are you enjoying the wedding?” my mom asks with a coy smile. She knows I’m not, but I know how to rub elbows when I must. Tonight I’m finding I don’t have my normal tolerance. If anything, I’m growing more irritated as the seconds tick by. Even when I’m not near Tova, they all still watch her. It makes me uneasy.
“I’d enjoy it more if it ended.”
Mom laughs. “Soon.” She beams up at me. “You need to relax. Everything is going to be fine.” Her expression turns serious. “If you focus on everything else around you and not her, you’ll lose her.”
“She’s all I can focus on,” I say before I can think better of it.
“I know.” She pats my chest. “I only want you to be mindful. She’s sweeter than I was. I grew up in this world.”
“And that is the very problem.” I keep my voice low, not wanting anyone to overhear us. Tova has a sweetness to her that I don’t want her to lose. If this lifestyle hardened her in any way, it would break me. I would never want that for her. That’s the reason I stayed away to begin with.
“You have always been different, War. It worried me.” I knew that. I was far too observant as a child. “You can be so much like your father at times, and at others, nothing like him at all.”
“Should I be offended?” I’m not, but I want to know what she is getting at.
“Different isn’t always bad, you know.”
“I suppose.”
“Your father was a whore. Did you know that?” My brows lift. “Of course you did.” She lets out a low laugh, shaking her head. “Before me. Then he fell on his ass when I came into his life.”
“That he did.” I have never heard of my father stepping out on my mother. He loves her, and she’d also cut his throat while he slept if he even thought about it.
I never understood how dimwitted a man needs to be to mistreat his wife and then lie next to her and sleep at night. Not only that—women are cunning and patient. They will bide their time. Do not underestimate a woman’s wrath. It’s not if it will come but when.
“He knew what I was to him from the start. I think you also knew who Tova was from the start.” She eyes me in a way only a mother ever could. I give a slight nod, my eyes drifting once again over my mother’s head to Tova. Her father spins her in a circle, making her giggle. “Then it doesn’t matter.”
“What?” I ask, dragging my attention away from my wife. I’m not sure my fingers could even get the delicate buttons of her dress off. I’d ruin it. I couldn’t just replace it. She had made it her own, sewing pockets into the sides. They are hardly noticeable, but I knew she would put her own spin on it, and I was looking for them. Since it’s partly her creation, there will be no ripping of the buttons.
“This is what I mean.” Mom glances over toward Tova. “It doesn’t matter. It’s too late. There is no fighting what you feel for her.”
“I’m not fighting that.” I lost that battle long ago. Not sure you could even call it a battle.
“Then what? I see you too in these moments, and then you go cold on her.”
“I didn’t—”
Mom holds up a finger to silence me. “I wasn’t done.” I keep my mouth shut. Especially now that my wife is watching me dance with my mom with a smile on her face. If I pissed my mother off, Tova would notice, and then that smile might fade away. “You avoid her for days.”
“It’s for her own good,” I say too defensively. Tova has to think I’m some beast at this point. I’m always pouncing on her one way or another.
I didn’t mean to be harsh when I stalked her down at the dock. I was worried. She can’t go slipping out at night all alone. I don’t care if it was still on our land.
“Is it because, as I said, it doesn’t matter? You’re done for. Fighting that will only hurt her.” My mom goes to step back, but I stop her.
“Why?” I don’t mean to hurt her. I prefer when she smiles at me. I don’t mind when she rolls her eyes at me either. It’s rather adorable. It’s the tears that irk me. They get under my skin and make me want to do whatever it takes to make them stop. To make sure she’s never sad because of me.
“Oh, you want advice now?” She smirks. It’s playful.
“Mom.”
“No girl wants the man she is to marry to avoid her. Ignore her. Do better.”
“I promise you. I have never ignored her.” Ignoring her is an impossible task. Fruitless. ‘She was forced to marry me.’
My mom throws back her head and laughs. ‘How are you men so brilliant at times and utterly stupid at others?’
‘It’s a gift,’ I reply with a hint of sarcasm.
‘That girl loves you.’
My feet stop moving. The music doesn’t. It is not until this moment that I realize how badly I want that to be true. ‘She doesn’t.’
‘She does.’
‘She cried when she found out she had to marry me.’
“You should ask her about it, then.”
“It’s far too late for that.” The gold band on my finger is proof of that.
“It’s never too late.” Mom pats my cheek twice before stepping away.
I watch Tova along with everyone else as her father spins her again.
The flame of jealousy burns inside of me. It’s always there when it comes to Tova. Even watching her smile at her father stokes the flame. It could be the flowers she’s stroking or the bite of cake she moans around as she eats.
I envy them all.
