The bed is covered in a grandma-style floral quilt, and the drapes on the windows look like they were hung thirty years ago, the lace at the edges now yellowed with age. Besides the dated feel, the room is clean, but I can’t help feeling we somehow violated the room.
“Are you sure you want to stay here and not over at Colin and Em’s?” I ask. I’m now quite used to my little room with the short ceilings in my friends’ home. The idea of staying in these foreign surroundings for the next few days does not seem appealing.
“No, this place is fine. After all, here I won’t have to worry about how loud we get,” Henry replies with a devilish grin. I’m not so sure I agree with him. I can only imagine who might have their ear up against the wall in the room next to us.
“So, how do I look?” Henry asks, holding out his arms and doing a turn for me, as if he were on the runway.
“What?” I laugh, surprised by the question.
“Hey! These are your friends; I want to make a good impression. I doubt they even remember me from the wedding.” My heart grows warm, the sweetness of his gesture washing over me.
“They’re going to love you no matter what you’re wearing,” I reassure.
“Well, of course they are. I’m quite lovable, as you well know.”
I walk over to him, slipping my hand between his button-up gray shirt and navy blazer. I pull his body close to me, resting my forehead on his chin. “That you are,” I whisper.
“Ready?” he asks. Suddenly I feel a rush of butterflies. I’m nervous. Why am I nervous? I’ve talked so much about Henry it is like Colin and Emmie already know him. There is no reason to be nervous. Unless … it isn’t Colin and Emmie I’m worried about at all. How will Christian act when he’s actually face to face with Henry? It is very clear—by that night on the dance floor—that Christian is still feeling something for me, no matter how well he is able to hide it.
What if he’s rude to Henry? How will Henry react to that? What if Henry starts to suspect something is going on between us? There’s nothing going on! I want to scream the words, but know that would prove very confusing for Henry.
“Babe?” Henry questions, his voice vibrating through my forehead. “Are you all right?”
“Of course,” I say, pulling away and flashing him a smile. “Let’s head over. It’s almost dinner time, and I’m famished.”
“Yeah, you need some good, Texan food to fatten you up for the wedding.”
I take hold of Henry’s hand to lead him from the room. He pulls away, to turn and walk over to his overnight bag, removing a small bottle from the pouch on the side.
“What are you doing?” I inquire.
“Oh, nothing, just something the doctor gave me to help with the headaches,” Henry explains.
“Are they that bad?” I ask, staring at him sympathetically.
“No, not all the time. You’re not reconsidering are you?”
“What are you talking about?” I’m confused.
“Marrying me. Are you thinking about trading in your nerdy allergy-ridden fiancé? You know the vows specifically say ‘in sickness and in health.’”
“Hmm …” I begin, pretending the idea needed some serious consideration.
“Hey!” Henry gasps and then laughs.
“Never,” I confirm. “But seriously, how often are you getting these headaches?”
“Babe, I promise, they’re getting better. They’ve got me on an elimination diet, so we’ll have this figured out in no time. I’m also going in after the holidays for a scan just to be safe.” He steps forward, grabbing me by the arms, forcing me to look into his eyes. “I promise, I’m taking care of it, and there’ s nothing to worry about.”
But I am worried. I love Henry, and I can’t stand the idea of him being sick. “Maybe I should fly home with you.”
“No!” he exclaims. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to have you home with me, as my personal nurse, but you need this. And honestly, it’s either work or rest for me these days. You’d be bored out of your mind.”
“You need to let me know if things get worse, and I’ll come home. Promise me,” I demand.
Henry laughs, pulling me close and hugging me tight, “I promise, if I get worse, you can come home. But I won’t get worse. I’m already feeling much better. I think the elimination diet’s working.”
We turn and walk out the room, Henry pulling the door closed behind us. “So tell me, how ready are you for the show?” He changes the subject as I link my arm through his, preparing to cross the street.