“Okay, kids,” Sylvia says, sounding almost like one of our philosophy professors. The thought makes me pine for those simpler days back at college again, and I wonder if Sylvia feels the same.
We all stare at her sheepishly as she looms over us with crossed arms. We’re waiting for her next condescending words. “Now, we are going to discuss this like rational adults. So put on your big boy pants and say what you need to say like civilized people.”
We all look at our hands instinctively, none of us knowing exactly how to get out of this ridiculously uncomfortable situation.
“Well?” Sylvia snaps.
Robin clears his throat and throws his shoulders back. I don’t want to notice how his black hair glistens in the sunlight, but I do. Here I am in a wedding dress, but pining for another man.
W
