Thirty-one Bhanu
The venue, part indoors and part outdoors, had been transformed into a reception while the wedding party took endless pictures on the beach against the majestic colors of a descending sun. The couple would probably be back and forth to capture just the right moment at sunset.
I was content in watching from afar, and happy to have escaped the pressure of being part of the wedding album. We would forget this time soon enough without photographic evidence of our fake relationship ever having occurred.
What a sobering thought, really.
I tried my best to stay in an empty corner. The amount of people and noise was getting to me, and if I didn’t act first, then an anxiety attack was sure to happen. But I was really wanting a dance with Sunny. Just one more moment before this all came to an end.
Several people had approached to ask who I was and how I knew the couple, as they’d never seen me around and surely they’d remember someone so…beautiful. Purple hair. They could say it. The hair, since not the face, was memorable. Thanking one after another on how lovely I looked was making me more self-conscious than ever. No one, and I mean no one, was as made up as I was except for the bride and her bridesmaids.
Ugh. Diya and her antics.
Oh, well. I was still a princess until midnight, or whenever I decided to wash off my face.
While the wedding party wound down on the last of their pictures, at least for now, the buffet came out. Staff arranged platters of appetizers and drinks on the far table, and I wasn’t shy about partaking. I was here for the food, and cake. But I guess I had to wait on the couple for the latter.
I sipped champagne from a flute and eyed slivers of veggies twisted into flowers and thinly cut meats topped with real flowers. There were balls of fruit and sweet rice wrapped in taro leaves. Everything with a toothpick in it for easy grabbing and quick eating.
“Don’t fill up just yet.” Sunny’s Denzel voice was in my ear.
I jumped, almost losing the rest of my drink.
He laughed, his hand on my waist and his mouth near my ear again. Except this time, there was a pause. I could feel the rush of air on my neck as he inhaled, deep and long.
“Did you…did you just sniff me?”
“Yeah. I couldn’t help it.”
I bit my lip. I didn’t understand, didn’t know how, but that was the sexiest thing ever. His hand on my waist tightened and he took another sniff right as I turned. Our mouths were alarmingly close to each other.
He swallowed, and I stared at his mouth. That perfect, skilled mouth.
My lips parted. I didn’t know why. I had nothing to say. Words escaped me. Words didn’t exist. What was speech?
“They have the wrapped shrimp still!” someone behind us exclaimed, shattering our trance.
Sunny led me away with a hand on my lower back. “Let’s go to our table before we get run down.”
He pulled out a chair for me.
“Oh, thank you. Such a gentleman.”
“Don’t get used to it,” he said with a wink as he sat beside me.
Servers had filled fancy stemmed drinkware with ice water while serving wine and tea and probably everything under the setting sun at the bar where a good-sized crowd had already gathered. “Looks like people are about to really enjoy themselves.”
“Bunch of drunks.” Sunny swerved back to look at me, asking, “Do you want a drink?”
“Are you calling me one of these bunches of drunks?”
“Yes.”
I laughed, holding up my champagne. “I’m still working on this.”
“Might as well. I don’t think they make dragon fruit colada or ube drinks.”
“Such a shame.”
“Hey!” Aamar said, sliding into his seat as we were joined by the rest of the wedding party.
Of course we were seated at the wedding party table right next to the immediate family to the bride and groom.
I was glad not to be near Sejal, to avoid her glances, whatever they might be. All focus should be on the happy couple. But the truth was, being close to Sunny made everything else disappear. We were floating in a bubble drifting on this moment in time. Cocooned and safe and warm and content.
As soon as the chairs were filled, we immediately stood and applauded when the host announced the newly married Mr. and Mrs. As we took our seats again, the couple commenced with the first dance as photographers and videographers floated around them. The father-daughter dance and the mother-son dance. Then the entire wedding party.
Sunny stood and lifted his hand to me. I blankly stared at it. “Huh?”
“We have to slow dance,” he said.
“That wasn’t in the rules.”
He deadpanned, like really?
I shook my head. A slow dance was fine, but an integral wedding party dance?
“You just hold on to me and sway. Please?” he implored, his eyes soft, his expression pleading. He probably knew how hard it was to deny that face. Maybe that was why he looked grumpy all the time. His lethally handsome expression could take over entire worlds.
