Page 25 of My Big Fat Vampire Wedding
“I’m heading out,” she told him.
“It’s early for work.”
“I have another date. Could you possibly tell Mum and Dad that, when you see them later? Maybe tell them how excited I looked.”
“Whydon’tyou look excited?” he asked.
“I am!”
“Come on, Pandy,” he said, shaking his head at her. “You look tired and tense.”
“I just didn’t sleep well. I’m actually super excited to go on a date with my future fiancé,” she said, lying. “I have to get going. I don’t want to be late. Is it raining?”
“It’s bucketing down.” He reached up to push his wet hair out of his face.
“Good,” she said. “I’ll take an umbrella. Maybe I’ll see you later.”
“Maybe,” he said, in a way that made her think he didn’t plan on it.
She was worried about him, but she didn’t have time to press him on it. She was on too much of a time crunch with her engagement and marriage.
So she made her way to the servants’ stairs, rushed down, and went out the back door to avoid her cousin who, thanks to not needing to breathe, seemed to have endless abilities to hold the wrong note.
When she arrived at Luna Bean, she found Victor waiting inside, sipping his usual coffee with one hand, but holding another drink in the other.
“Chamomile tea?” he asked, holding it out toward her.
“Yes, thank you,” she said, smiling at him.
He didn’t seem as distant as he’d been the night before. She decided not to overthink that and just be happy about it instead.
“So, where are we having our date?” she asked.
“One of my favorite places in the world,” he told her.
But he refused to explain further as the two of them walked under her umbrella toward the Tube.
Instead, he veered the conversation toward the more boring aspects of their contract. Exact dates, contingencies, et cetera.
“What about our living arrangements?” he asked.
“What about them?”
“Will we be living together?”
“Oh, right. Yes, of course,” she said, trying to tamp down the warm feelings she got at the idea of sharing a home with him. “After the wedding.”
“And what about the divorce?”
“What about the divorce?” she asked, ignoring the pang in her stomach at the idea.
“Would we both move out of the flat?”
“Oh, uh, I haven’t given that a lot of thought, actually.”
“I guess there’s time. Might want to actuallyfinda flat before we talk about who lives in it after the … contract is over.”
She was glad when the train pulled into the station, ending the practical – and oddly sad – conversation as they made their way down the waterlogged streets until they came to a door.
