Member-only story
The Last Photograph of Us
Why did we think we had forever?
Do you remember that moment? Drew had pushed you towards me, laughter in his voice, and then I steadied you by the arms. We shared embarrassed smiles like we were two lost kids on a dance floor. I don’t remember what I said, but you nodded and laughed in relief. I remember the sound like it was the opening strain of my favorite song.
I don’t know who moved first — maybe you did, trying to get out of the way, or maybe I did as a reflex of always trying to be as small as possible — but my hands found your face and I looked into your eyes.
“Ah.”
Then I kissed you as a whoop filtered through the crowd. I hadn’t realized we were being watched — and I found I didn’t care anyway.
That picture Mona took — it’s still in my nightstand drawer. Sometimes I take it out, just to reminisce, but there are days I can’t bear to look at it.
It was so easy to think, “That’s the man I’m going to marry,” because it was that kind of night. If it hadn’t been winter, I would have expected the sky to flood with fireworks — like the dance of sparks heating in my stomach as soon as your hands met my skin.
It was like finding the answer to a question I didn’t know I had been meaning to ask.
