Drew

The night is cooler than I thought it’d be. In all the chaos of helping the other girls with the final touches on the venue, I’d hardly gotten a chance to step outside since we arrived. The warm midday sun has faded into twilight, and the breeze blows strong enough to make me shiver as soon as we step in the courtyard.

“Here,” Drew says. The next thing I know, he’s draping his suit jacket over my shoulders. I let myself relax into it, avoiding his gaze. It’s just like Drew to instantly notice I’m cold and give me his jacket without hesitation. It’s just like me not to know how to thank him.

“So,” he says after a moment, stepping back and glancing up at the sky, the moment already vanished. “That was some ceremony.”

A smile tugs at my lips and when I look back at him, his eyes are sparkling. Of course he’s amused by the same thing I was. I could almost hear his voice in my head as Sarah and Michael went through every tradition they could think of during the ceremony, making the whole thing last hours, but “ensuring their marriage would be blessed,” as Sarah herself had told me.

“They’re traditional,” I say, feeling the need to defend her.

“I know,” Drew says, the teasing gone from his voice. “It was nice. Just took longer than I expected.”

“I think it took longer than anyone expected.”

He grins. “They should have had an intermission.”

I roll my eyes at him, turning back to face the night, but within a second he’s beside me again, the smile gone as his eyes lock with mine.

“Drew…” I whisper, stepping back on one foot. I need more time, I want to say. I don’t have your answer yet, and sometimes I worry that I never will.

He nods, hearing it all in my tone and reading it in my eyes. That’s probably the most infuriating thing about him, this easy way he has of reading my mind, of knowing exactly what page I’m on before I’ve thought to invite him. But maybe that’s just what happens when you’ve known someone for so long.

“I have another question for you,” he says after a moment. “But will you promise you’ll give me an answer?”

“Does it have to be tonight?” I say, trying to lighten the mood and make fun of my own ridiculous need to prolong things.

He doesn’t laugh though, just bites his lip, turning away from me.

“I’m joking, Drew.”

“I know.”

“What’s your question?”

He takes in a deep breath, and for a second the sound of it makes me want to move closer, to wind my fingers around his and finally give him the answer he longs for. If only it were that simple. But it isn’t. Nothing is ever that simple.

“What are you most afraid of? When it comes to you and me, I mean.”

“Who says I’m afraid?”

“Aren’t you?”

I look away from him, my gaze landing on my satin sandals against the cobblestone. For a second I’m distracted by the fact that these are the exact shoes I envisioned pairing with this dress the day I bought it. Silver, satin and strappy. I hadn’t changed my mind for all of Sarah’s other suggestions. So sure about something as simple as shoes, in a way that I can never seem to be about the things that matter.

“Yes, I’m afraid. But not for the reasons you think I am.”

#creativewriting