Free Chocolate for Two by Maria Murnane

as we were falling asleep, I lay on my back and stared up at the ceiling. The dinner conversation kept replaying itself in my head…as well as the memories it had stirred up. I could hear Jake’s steady breathing and wondered if he was already out.
    After a few minutes I finally spoke, though it was more of a whisper.
    “I don’t want to get married in a church,” I said softy.
    He stroked my hair. “We don’t have to get married in a church.”
    “I don’t even think I want to get married in Florida.”
    He kept stroking my hair. “We don’t have to get married in Florida.”
    I sighed. “Your mom would
love
that.”
    He shrugged. “It isn’t her wedding, Waverly.”
    “And I’m not getting married on a holiday weekend.” I’d had enough long weekends ruined by having to attend someone else’s wedding. I wasn’t about to be
that
bride.
    “No holiday weekends…” He was almost asleep.
    “Plus McKenna couldn’t even make it in February. That’s right when her baby is due.”
    “Mmm.”
    Finally I sat up. I knew what was
really
bothering me.
    I took a deep breath, then looked at him. “I don’t want a big wedding, Jake. I don’t want…I don’t want to do that again.” I hated to go there, but it was true.
    He kept petting my hair but kept his eyes closed and didn’t say anything. I wondered what he was thinking. Despite her chilly demeanor, I knew how much he loved his mom. This had to be prickly for him.
    After an uncomfortable silence, I got up and walked toward the bathroom. “I just don’t want this to be stressful, Jake.”
    “I don’t want it to be either.”
    I stood by the door. “I’d love to do something small, something small and intimate with just our closest friends, you know?”
    He didn’t reply, so I disappeared into the bathroom. I washed my face and brushed my teeth, and when I came back to the bed a few minutes later, Jake looked asleep.
    I laid my head against his shoulder and sighed. “I just want it all to be…fun,” I whispered. Planning my first wedding had been a long, nerve-racking process that had proved to be about as enjoyable as trying on swimsuits under fluorescent lights, even
before
the wedding got called off. One of the reasons it had been such a nightmare was the overinvolvement of Aaron’s mother.
    “You know my take on it, Waverly,” he said.
    I looked up at him, surprised that he’d heard me. “Your take on it?”
    He gave me a sleepy smile. “As long as I get to be your husband, I’m good.”
    I felt the tension in my shoulders melt away at his words.
    “Really?”
    He nodded, his eyes closed now. “If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
    I smiled at him and felt a little teary eyed. “I love you. Have I told you that enough today?”
    “I could never hear that enough.”
    We turned out the light and climbed under the covers, and he wrapped his arms around me spoon-style. I loved being the little spoon.
    “So, hey, who was the little bird?” I whispered over my shoulder.
    “The little bird?”
    “You said you talked to a little bird about what kind of ring to buy. Who was it?”
    “Actually, it was your dad.”
    “My dad?”
    “We talked about it when I called him to ask permission to propose.”
    I smiled into the darkness. “I love that you did that. Have I ever told you how much I love that you did that?”
    “Of course I’d ask his permission to marry you. How could I not?”
    “I still love it. So he really helped with the ring?”
    “Yes. During our conversation, he mentioned that your mom had a cushion cut with pavé for her engagement ring, and we both thought it would be nice for me to get the same style for you.”
    I turned around to face him. “My dad knew the cut of my mom’s ring?”
    “Mmm.”
    “But he doesn’t know the difference between a tank top and a tube top. How would he know anything about the cut of a diamond?”
    He nodded and touched my cheek. “I suspect he’s a little more sophisticated than