The night.
The reception finished at about eleven. My feet were destroyed. There was icing on the hem of my dress from where he had kissed me after the cake.
We were not flying out until the Monday, so we drove back to the townhouse.
And ten minutes after we came through the door, his phone started.
He looked at the screen and something moved across his face.
"Who is it?"
"Nobody."
He rejected it. Thirty seconds later it went again, and this time he took it into the kitchen.
I got fragments. Why are you here. And: No, you can't do this tonight. And: I said I'd talk to you.
I was standing in the hall in my wedding dress.
He came back looking grey.
"There's something I have to deal with."
I laughed, because I thought it was a joke. "Tonight?"
"I'll come back."
"You're leaving."
"Just for a bit."
