Something Borrowed - Emily Giffin [74]
Tonight Dex talks about work. He often tells me about his deals, and although I am interested in the mechanics of it all, what I really like is the color that Dex provides about the major players at his firm, the people who fill his daily life. For example, I know that he likes working for Roger Bollinger, the head of his group. Dex is Roger's golden boy and Roger is Dexter's role model. When he tells a story about Roger, he imitates Roger's Boston accent in a way that convinces me that if I ever meet Roger it will seem as though Roger is imitating Dex imitating Roger. Roger is barely five feet four (my question—guys usually don't supply details on the appearance of other guys and are far more likely to report on wit or intelligence) but it doesn't hurt him with women, according to Dex. Incidentally, Dex reported this tidbit matter-of-factly, not admiringly, which reassures me that Dex does not have womanizing tendencies. Womanizers feel either (a) impressed by or (b) competitive with fellow womanizers.
He finishes telling me a story about Roger and then asks, "Did I tell you that Roger was engaged twice?"
"No," I say, thinking that he knows he hasn't. It's not the kind of thing you forget sharing, particularly given our circumstances. I feel suddenly chilly, and pull the sheet up over both of us.
"Yeah. He broke it off both times. He keeps saying things to me like, 'It's not ovah till it's ovah' and 'The fat lady hasn't sung yet.' "
I wonder if Roger knows anything about me, or if he's just doing the typical bachelor banter. "When?" I ask Dex.
"When does the fat lady sing?" Dex curls his body around mine.
"Well, yeah. Sort of." We are getting into sensitive territory, and I am thankful he can't see my eyes. "When did he break off the engagements?"
"Not sure about the first time. But the second time was right before the ceremony."
"You're kidding me."
"Nope. The bride was getting dressed when he went to her room. Knocked on her door and gave her the news right in front of her mother, her grandmother, and her ninety-five-year-old great-grandmother."
"Was she surprised?" I ask, realizing that it's a dumb question. Nobody expects the groom to barge in and call off the wedding.
"Apparently. But she shouldn't have been that surprised… She must've known he had done it once before."
"Was there somebody else?" I ask tentatively.
"Don't think so. No."
"Then why did he do it?"
"He said he couldn't see it lasting forever."
"Oh."
"What are you thinking?"
He must know what I'm thinking.
"Nothing."
"Tell me."
"Nothing."
"Tell me."
The dialogue of the new relationship. After a couple is established, the question becomes a relic.
"I'm thinking that I don't believe in that wedding-day, Julia Roberts Runaway Bride—or groom—routine."
"You don't believe in it?"
I am treading carefully. "I just think it's unnecessary… needlessly mean," I say. "If someone is going to call it off, they should do it before the wedding day."
My message isn't exactly subtle.
"Well, I agree, but don't you think it's better to pull the cord than make a mistake? Don't you owe it to the other person and yourself and the whole institution of marriage to say something, even if you come to the realization late in the game?"
"I'm in no way advocating the making of that sort of mistake. I'm just saying you should figure it out before the wedding day. That's what engagements are for. And in my book, by the wedding day it's a done deal. Suck it up and make the best of it. That's a cold move, telling her when the gown is on."
I picture Darcy in this humiliating scenario, and my empathy for her is unequivocal.
"You think? Even if it just ends up in a divorce?" he asks.
"Even if. You ask that girl if she'd rather be divorced or dissed in her dress in front of all those people."
He makes a noncommittal