I put my hand on his arm and I said, “Please don’t. Not tonight. This is your wedding. Don’t let her do this to your wedding, too.”
He looked at me.
He said, “I’m sorry.”
I said, “I know. Dance with your wife.”
I went to table 11, which was in fact near the windows, and I sat down.
And I introduced myself to the other 7 people there, who were mostly colleagues of my sister-in-law’s from her former job, warm and easy to talk to.
And I had a glass of wine, and ate the salmon, and laughed at the right moments, and stayed for exactly 1 hour and 40 minutes after dinner was served.
Then I found my husband.
He had been at table 3 the entire time.
I had watched him twice from across the room, and each time he had been laughing.
He had not come to check on me once.
I tapped him on the shoulder.
He turned.
I said very quietly, directly into his ear, “I’m going to head home. You stay. Enjoy the rest of the night.”
He started to protest.
I said, “Please stay.”
And I meant it in a way that had nothing to do with being generous.
I found my new sister-in-law and hugged her and told her she was luminous and that the flowers were perfect.
She held my hands and looked at me and said, “You didn’t deserve tonight.”
I told her that was true of a lot of nights.
