To be in Charlie’s arms.
It feels like we’ve been standing still, in each other’s hold, for an achingly long time, staring at each other and, for my part, wondering what he is thinking. In reality, only one line of ‘Suspicious Minds’ has lapsed.
One more line is long enough for me to move my focus from Charlie’s eyes to his mouth, and to consider what it would be like to press my lips against his.
Danny…
Just as my husband enters my thoughts, Charlie sends me literally, rather than metaphorically this time, into a spin.
Holding his hand, I swirl to his right, back to the middle, to his left and back to the middle again, this time with my back pressed against his chest, where we twirl on the spot together. He dips me backward across his right arm, then switches me to his left. They are textbook moves but he executes them well and in doing so, makes me feel high on life.
We dance into ‘All Shook Up’, sometimes together, sometimes twisting and shaking independently. Through it all, my thoughts don’t drift to anywhere other than my bouncing feet, my swinging hips, and the ache in my ribs from the enjoyment of it all.
Ignoring Charlie had been just desserts for him but I am having a lot more fun now that I’ve stopped.
The DJ changes the track to ‘Love Me Tender’, the rhythm of the music slowing to a heartbeat. Some people drift back to their tables. Others move closer to their partners.
I am the Matron of Honor. Charlie is an usher. We can’t leave the dance floor. And so, when Charlie holds out his hand, I take little encouragement to move closer to him.
When he interlaces his fingers with mine, I go with it. When he drops his other hand to the small of my back and nudges me closer to him, until our bodies are pressed together, I don’t pull away.
And when he holds my gaze, I hold my breath. Waiting. Blinded by the atmosphere. The occasion.
I feel, more than see, his proximity increase.
I close my eyes and feel my chin lift toward him, preparing, waiting.
‘It’s really hot in here. Shall we get a drink?’ he then asks, moving me back from him with his hands on my shoulders.
What the actual?
Was he going to kiss me?
Was I going to kiss him?
And why the hell did he pull away?
I watch his back as he walks away and I feel like I have shriveled to the size of a raisin. I scan the guests around me to see if anyone else has noticed my almost indiscretion, or my rejection.
For a moment, I was floating on air. Now, I have come crashing to the ground and hit a load of tree branches on the way down, before being mowed down by a truck, like vermin.
It’s been a fantastic day in many ways. It’s also been one of the lowest of my life.
Right now, standing in the middle of the dance floor, alone, while couples slow dance and smooch around me, I am at my lowest point yet.
All thanks to that asshat!
Suddenly, I am raging. I feel fire blowing from my nostrils with my breath.
Like a dragon fueled by fury, I go after Charlie. He has bypassed our table, where his drink remains untouched. He doesn’t make a beeline for the bar. He is heading toward a staircase that leads to the lawn outside.
I catch up to him right by a group of wedding guests who are smoking. They surreptitiously nip the ends of their cigarettes when they see me approach. They can’t move inside fast enough.
I really am breathing fire.
‘What the hell was that?’ I demand.
Charlie turns to face me, his expression much like a bank robber caught in the act.