Maura had never expected this moment. Of course, before the strings, she had sometimes suspected that a proposal might be coming—in an incident of particular weakness, she had even peeked among the pristinely folded clothes in Nina’s dresser—but everything had changed in March. Since then, even in their most intimate moments, even when swept up among the romance of Italy’s cobbled alleys and quiet fountains, Maura never thought Nina would propose. Not after the strings.
And Maura never would have been the one to ask, to put Nina in that position. She didn’t feel any shame at the thought of simply living with Nina, no titles. Maura didn’t need to be one half of a marriage to feel whole. But once Nina had posed the question, once the possibility was suddenly real and standing before her in the shape of the woman who felt like home, Maura thought that maybe it would be nice to be married, to have something that felt solid and lasting in her otherwise upended life. Maybe, despite everything her string had stolen, this was one thing she could still have.
After the officiant pronounced Maura Hill and Nina Wilson newlyweds, the couple returned to the main gallery and exited onto a peaceful street. Nina clasped Maura’s hand as they headed to meet their families and a few close friends at a restaurant just down the block—a near-miraculous feat that Nina had spent the weekend pulling together.
In a back room lit by candles, Nina’s and Maura’s parents sat together with Amie, while a few of Nina’s favorite coworkers, some of Maura’s friends from college, a couple of local relatives, and the members of Maura’s support group gathered around three other tables.
Even before the strings, Maura had always believed there was something just a little bit crazy about marriage, committing the rest of your life to someone before you had even lived that much of it yourself. And surely, some might find her marriage to Nina even harder to understand. Yet all of the people in this restaurant, these family and friends, had canceled their plans at the last moment, rearranged their lives to be here tonight. To show their support for this crazy act. To fill the room with love.
After the meal was served, Nina walked over to a corner where Maura had been chatting with a cousin. “There’s one more thing,” she said.
Maura smiled, eyeing her with faux-suspicion, and as the violins began to play over the speakers, Maura suddenly realized the four tables had been arranged with a small opening in the center. This was Nina’s plan all along.
Still surprised, Maura allowed herself to be pulled out of her chair and into Nina’s arms, while the voice of Nat King Cole filled the air around them.
“I can’t believe you did this,” Maura whispered against Nina’s cheek. “All of it.”
“If anyone deserves it, it’s you.”
And the pair swayed back and forth together on the tiny makeshift dance floor, holding each other close.
That’s why, darling, it’s incredible
That someone so unforgettable
Thinks that I am unforgettable, too.
Amie
Everyone around Amie stood up and headed for the patch of dance floor, leaving Amie alone at her table, admiring her sister and Maura as they weaved through the clusters of guests. She couldn’t believe she had almost missed this. Thankfully, she had arrived at Nina’s door just in time, overflowing with regret and apology. Only a few days later, Nina had called her to say that the formal wedding had been scrapped, replaced by an intimate dinner after a ceremony at City Hall.
Amie tried to focus her eyes on the dancers and stop staring at Ben, who was seated across the room, with the other members of his and Maura’s support group. Amie had been too nervous to approach him earlier, and she assumed that Ben was understandably waiting on her. She was the one who had left his confession unanswered, after all.
She had already planned what she was going to say to him, some polite speech about wanting to stay friends, but as she watched Ben laughing alongside a pregnant brunette in a modest pink dress and a strawberry blonde with a spray tan, Amie felt inexplicably upset that he would be laughing with any woman who wasn’t her. She felt her face growing flush and her heartbeat quicken. She was being completely ridiculous, she thought. She was a twenty-nine-year-old woman, for god’s sake, not some jealous preteen.
Amie thought that she had made up her mind about Ben, that it would be safer to never act on her feelings.
But maybe she was wrong.
The song was still playing, she still had a chance. But would Ben even be willing to speak to her?
She drew a breath and walked over to his table.