Anna
I love you.
He whispered the words so quietly I almost didn’t hear him, but I did. The words wrap around me like a blanket, holding me in place, covering me with protection, offering me safety.
After awhile, Oliver lifts me and carries me to bed. He holds me all night and when I wake up in the morning, I roll over and just look at him.
He’s beautiful, and perfect.
And I know I don’t deserve him.
We spend the day together cooking, eating, and watching movies. The weekend is relaxing and long and fantastic, and on Monday, when I go back to work, Rita looks me up and down.
“Damn,” she says.
“What?”
“You look better than you’ve ever looked.”
I glance down at myself. “Um, thanks?”
“You’re in love.”
“What makes you say that?”
“It’s obvious, honey.” She laughs and pours me a cup of coffee. “Trust me. I’ve been married three times. I know what a woman looks like when she’s in love.”
“Is it scary?” I ask her, taking the hot mug from her hands.
“What?”
“Being married.”
“Huh? No. No way. Being married is wonderful.”
“I was just wondering,” I’m trying not to be awkward and failing miserably. “Because, um,” I’m going to have to tell people at work eventually. It might as well be now. “Because I’m engaged.”
“WHAT?” She shrieks. “Girl, how did I not know there was a man in your life? And where’s your ring?” She looks at my hand pointedly.
“No engagement ring,” I tell her. “I don’t want one. We’re getting married really soon, like in a couple of weeks, and I didn’t want to spend money on a ring I’d only be wearing for a short time.”
“Understandable. You’re frugal. I like that about you.”
“Any advice?” She has been married three times, after all. Surely the woman knows a thing or two about surviving a marriage. Besides, I’m only going to be married for a year. It’s not going to be that hard, is it? For a year? I can’t imagine there’s anything Oliver could do, short of secretly being a serial killer, that would make being married to him for a year horrible.
Just one year, and then we can split up.
I don’t want to think about that, though, because every time I think about the possibility of saying goodbye to Oliver, I feel an overwhelming sense of sadness.
“Marriage advice? I don’t know if I’m the person to ask about that, honey. I’ve been married three times, but I’ve also been divorced three times, so I’m not exactly an expert.”
“I value your opinion,” I tell the older woman. That seems to be enough to get her talking.
“The thing about marriage,” Rita leans against the counter and takes a long sip of her coffee. “Is that it’s not just a relationship. It’s an experience. A lot of things change when you get married. Your relationship changes. You change. The way people interact with you changes. Sometimes your single friends won’t want to hang out as much because they’ll feel like they’re bothering you, or like you can’t take time away from your husband to be with them.”
“That’s stupid. Why should getting married change your friendships?”
“It shouldn’t. I agree, but it does, so just be ready for that. Be ready to compromise more than you ever thought you would. Be ready to learn how to communicate in new ways. Learning to live with another person is one thing, but learning how to share your entire life with someone is something entirely different. It’s wonderful, but scary.”
“If you could do it all over again, knowing how things turned out, would you still have gotten married?”
“Me? Of course,” Rita laughs. “But I’m a dreamer, honey. I’m a dreamer.”
She heads off to do some paperwork and I find myself walking slowly to my desk. A couple of teachers greet me, but I’m caught up in my thoughts and don’t try to start any conversations.
I still have to get a wedding dress, and Oliver and I have to pick out rings, and I have to figure out what we’re going to do for a reception. There are so many plans to finalize, so many things to do to make this wedding come together in a short amount of time, but all I can think about is that I don’t want it to end.
I don’t want any of this to end.
It’s selfish, I know, but I’m having such a lovely time with Oliver that the thought of leaving him terrifies me. Somehow, I feel like we’re perfect together. Somehow, I feel like everything is going to be okay.
*
When I get home that night, Oliver has dinner ready and on the table. I kiss him before we sit down to enjoy our meal together.
“So, Carl was arrested today,” I tell him. “The police officer assigned to my case called me to let me know.”
“I can’t say I’m not happy. The bastard deserves whatever he gets. I should have fought him when I had the chance.”
“Trust me, you made the right call in letting the justice system handle this one,” I shiver thinking about what I would have done if I’d lost Oliver. I have no doubt he’d be able to take Carl, no doubt he’d come out the winner, but at what cost?
Killing someone changes you, and I wouldn’t want to see Oliver change.
Not like that.
“What happened?” Oliver asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Apparently, he tried to break into my house again. One of my neighbors called it in. The cops caught him with a ton of gasoline.”
“He was going to burn it down?”
“They’re charging him with breaking and entering and attempted arson.”
“Motherfucker,” he shakes his head. “I hope they give him the maximum sentence.”
“Either way,” I shrug. “We won’t have to worry about him much longer.”
“He’s still the executor of your estate,” Oliver points out. “But if he’s in jail, he can’t perform his duties and someone new will be appointed. I’m going to try to make sure it’s me.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“I would do anything for you, Anna. I’ve told you this.”
“That’s quite the responsibility, though.”
“Anything. I would do anything for you.”
I put down my fork and push my plate away.
“Something wrong with the food?”
I walk over to him, place my hands on his shoulders, and take a deep breath.
I love you is on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t say it just yet. It’s still so new. It’s still so fresh, and those words are so final, so serious. So instead of saying the words we both need to hear, I kiss him. I kiss Oliver and kiss him and kiss him. I kiss him like there’s no tomorrow, like there’s nothing better or more important to me than him.
I kiss him like I love him because, I’m realizing, I really, really do.