Mariella set Paul’s mug on the coffee table like it was fragile evidence in a crime scene. Charity and Melinda squeezed together on the too-small lounge chair, stiff and starstruck, like two NPCs who had suddenly gained consciousness because a main character walked in.
Mariella inhaled slowly.Act normal. Be normal. You are a normal person.
“So,” she said, reaching desperately for a topic that wasn’t Paul, s*x, or Paul’s face, “what time does the ceremony start again?”
Paul, lounging on their couch like he owned the deed, took a slow sip of coffee. “Five.”
She nodded, pretending her soul wasn’t tap dancing. “And until what time does it usually last?”
“Depends,” he replied, calm and controlled. “If speeches drag, eight or nine. If not, earlier.”
Charity nodded like the concept of time
