hanger and walked quickly to the dressing room. I caught a glimpse of my bare body in the mirror before I slipped the gown over my head. I looked away quickly. My God, how did I forget? Today is May 3. The anniversary of it all.
I felt the sudden urge to put my clothes back on, run out of the dressing room, and keep running until I was safe inside the apartment. I’d curl up in bed. A sleeping pill could numb the pain. I still had a few left in the prescription bottle in my medicine cabinet. They always helped, for a time. But the sapphires on my wrist sparkled again, the jewels reflecting their brightness in my tears. I thought of Ethan and the promise I had made to him. I zipped up the dress, smoothing it where it wrinkled a bit at the sides. I can do this.
I hardly recognized the woman staring back at me in the mirror, perhaps because my uniform for the past year had consisted of baggy, drab clothing. I’d almost forgotten that I had a shape. I opened the fitting room door and walked out.
“You look…stunning,” Dominic said, waiting patiently in the hallway. “It’s the one.”
“It better be, because I have to be at the Olympic Hotel in fifteen minutes.”
“Wear it out,” he said. “They can cut the tags off at the counter.”
I smiled, pointing at my tan boots. “Guess I’d better pick up some shoes, too.”
“Yeah,” he said, smiling.
I said good-bye to Dominic and hailed a cab to the Olympic Hotel, where I found Ethan waiting for me in the lobby, pacing. An elaborate vintage chandelier dangled overhead. I read the look on his face instantly: irritation.
“There you are,” he said, glancing at his watch. “Do you realize that you’re a half hour late?”
“Nice to see you, too,” I said sarcastically, running my hand along the edge of my dress to be sure the tags were gone.
Ethan frowned. “Why do you have to be so…”
I folded my arms. “So what?”
“So defensive,” he said. “So angry all the time.”
I sighed.
“Claire,” he continued, “it’s been a long day. Can we just go in and sit down? Can we pretend to get along? Just for tonight?”
I felt a lump in my throat. “You don’t remember, do you?”
“What?”
“Today,” I said, searching his eyes. “You don’t remember what today is.”
He looked toward the ballroom, then back at me, annoyed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if we don’t get inside, we’re going to miss—”
“A year ago today…” I said in almost a whisper, the memory too sacred to let a passing stranger overhear.
His face changed then. The rigidness softened. He took a step toward me. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” He put his hand on my back. “I can’t believe I forgot.”
“Well,” I said, wiping a tear from my eye, “maybe you were too busy lunching with Cassandra.”
Ethan stiffened. “Claire, don’t be ridiculous. Listen, let’s go inside and sit down. We can talk later.”
I hated the tone in his voice, just as much as I hated the tone in mine. Cold. Unfeeling. Who is this bickering couple we’ve become? I looked at the black heels Dominic had helped me select mere minutes ago, then up at Ethan again. What if I just embraced him? Would he hold me in his arms the way he used to? I felt a rush of sadness.
“You blame me,” I said under my breath. “For what happened.” There, I said it.
“Oh, come on, Claire. You can’t be serious.”
“Don’t pretend like you don’t resent me,” I continued. “I know you think it was my fault. I see it in your eyes every damn time I look at you.”
“Claire,” Ethan said, “that’s unfair.”
“Well, you’re not denying it.”
He stared at his feet. “I—”
We both looked up when we heard footsteps behind us.
“Oh, there you are, Ethan,” Cassandra said, holding two glasses of champagne. Her gold sequin dress clung to her body, flattering her curves in a way that no dress could do for mine. “Everything all right out here?” she asked. “Your mother asked me to see if I could find you. Your grandfather’s about to take the stage.”
Ethan nodded. “Thanks Cassandra, I—”
“I was just leaving,” I said, tugging at my bracelet as I made my way back out to the sidewalk. I hailed an approaching cab and climbed into the backseat, quickly turning away from the window. I couldn’t let them see my tears.