March 21, 2016

In Which Gennie Pushes for Life to Begin

February 11, 1199

"You didn't have to come if you had too much work, you know." It may have been a harsher hint than Gennie felt right about giving, but it never did seem to occur to Wolf that his presence at her family events was optional--even now that she was finished with university and he wasn't. "It's not as if it's a party--just a quiet dinner for my grandfather's birthday."

"It's all right. I don't have too much work." Never mind that he was now in his senior year and he ought to have been focused, especially considering that his major was actually relevant to his future. "I wanted to see you."

"Mmm." She wanted to want to see him. She supposed she did want to see him, sort of--but not in the way either of them wanted. Why? Dalston was out of the question, and he'd never been hers to begin with. "Well, my grandfather will appreciate your well-wishes."

"Well, I'll do what I can for the last birthday he has before hitting the big seven-zero. It's odd to think our grandparents are that old."

"Or that we're old enough to have grandparents who are that old." Gennie sighed. Her grandfather seemed more alive at sixty-nine than she felt at twenty-one. God, what was wrong with her? What was so great about Dalston, anyway? If she couldn't guess why she was so obsessed with him in the first place, then no wonder she couldn't figure out what drove her continued funk.

"Eh. We're not old, really," Wolf tried to assure her as he slung an arm around her shoulders; out of some vain hope to feel something, Gennie obliged and leaned into him. "Just... older, I guess."

"I suppose."

"I mean... life hasn't even begun for us yet." He kissed her on the cheek. He did have soft lips, she'd give herself credit for noticing. "Will you marry me?"

Gennie pressed her tongue to the back of her teeth. It had only been a matter of time before that question slipped out of his mouth. It had been bouncing about his head for years, and she ought to have been more prepared. Or more excited. Or more willing to dispel his hopes.

But she was twenty-one and he was right that life hadn't begun yet. For her, it wouldn't until she put Dalston behind her. She couldn't miss a man who'd never loved her forever.

"All right."


1 comment:

Van said...

Sore throat. Gross.