But now that I'd actually seen her, the whole thing just felt pointless.
Completely, thoroughly pointless.
I steadied myself. When I opened my eyes again, Christopher was standing at the cake table, cutting slices.
He was clumsy about it, sawing carefully at a pink rabbit-shaped cake. He placed two strawberries on top, fumbling with them, but they kept sliding crooked. Finally he gave up and set the plate aside, glancing around the room for help.
I was the only one there.
"Can you help me? She gave me orders. If I mess it up, she won't let me come find her."
He held the pink tray out to me. I reached for it.
The instant our hands touched, he pulled back.
I cut a slice of cake. In the mirror behind the table, I could see Christopher's reflection. He was looking down, rubbing the hand that had just brushed against mine.
I believed him now. The thought of marrying me really did make him sick.
"Christopher, I mean it. Let's break up."
He looked up, took the plate of cake from my hands, and nodded.
"Sure."
The party was an all-night affair. No one was allowed to leave until morning. I had no choice but to wait it out.