“Go ahead, laugh.” I sighed, waiting in the doorway as Taigi went up to Eli, placing both paws on his legs.
“I don’t see anything funny,” he replied, handing me the wine bottle and medical textbook I'd asked for before stroking Taigi’s head.
“I would prefer if you laughed.” It would make me feel less pathetic. “Thanks for these, I’ll return the book tomorrow.”
I was about to call Taigi back inside when I remembered. “We’re friends, right?” I asked, though it felt odd for me to call him just a friend.
He looked up from Taigi. “I guess.”
“So we can help each other without judging, right?”
“Just spit it out.”
“This is so embarrassing…”
“Guinevere, you are standing in front of me in a wedding dress. What could possibly be more embarrassing for you?”
He just had to ask.
“I can’t get it off.”
“You what?” he asked slowly.
“The wedding dress. The stupid wedding dress won’t come off, and it’s getting harder for me to breathe!” I placed a hand on my stomach. The goddamn thing was like an anaconda wrapping tighter every time I took a breath.
He covered his mouth to stifle a chuckle, but he couldn’t take it and laughed outright.
“I thought you said it wasn’t funny!”
“It wasn’t, until you told me you were stuck in it! How does that happen?”
“I gained a little weight, okay…” For some reason, the more he laughed, the better I felt. “Are you going to help me or not?”
Nodding, he came in along with Taigi and put the things he'd brought on the kitchen counter before closing the door.
I turned around, brushing my hair to the side. I jumped slightly when his hand brushed back.
“You okay?”
“Your hands were cold. I’m fine. Is it coming down?” I asked, feeling him tug harder.
“This is really stuck.” He braced a hand on my waist, trying to pull the zipper down. The dress had to be cursed because I didn't feel it getting any looser.
“Can’t you just rip it?”
“With my hands? Are you serious right now?” He paused in his attempts.
I grinned, trying to hold in my stomach. “What, you aren’t strong enough?”
“If any man can rip a wedding dress off you, please consult a physician before continuing your relationship.” His hand shifted onto my shoulder, and once again he tried. “Guinevere, I don’t know what to say to you, but this thing isn’t coming off.”
Lightheaded, I had to brace myself against the kitchen table.
“Guinevere!”
“I’m fine, just felt dizzy for a second—”
“You’re turning blue, you are not fine. Hold on.” He let go of me and reached toward my knife set, taking the scissors.
“What are you doing—”
“What does it look like? I’m cutting you out of it.”
“No—”
Ripppppp.
I took a deep breath, holding the dress up and turning around to face him. “You cut it.”
“Can you breathe now?”
I nodded, but looked back down at the gown. “You cut it,” I repeated, almost in shock.
“Didn’t you just ask me to rip it?”
“I knew you couldn’t… Thanks?” I wasn’t sure what else to say.
“You're welcome.” He put the scissors back and headed to the door.
“Wait.”
“What now? Are you stuck in your bra?”
I clutched the dress back up to go to my bedroom. “I just need to ask you a few questions about the hospital real quick. Give me a minute.”
After running back into my room, I let the dress fall to the floor after I closed the door, donning jeans and a basic t-shirt before coming back out. When I did, he was already opening the bottle of wine.
“No!” I rushed out, but it was too late.
He poured both of us a glass.
“What? Did you want to drink the whole thing yourself?” His eyebrow went up and he held out the glass for me to take.
“No, Stevie’s wedding is tomorrow and I was going to give it as a gift.” I sighed, taking the glass from him.
“You didn’t think of anything else?” He followed me into my living room, taking a seat with me on the floor near the window again.
“I did, but Stevie…Stephanie now, might not like it. I was thinking of something more sophisticated, so I was going to give the wine to Nathaniel, and give her some earrings,” I said, handing him a pillow.
He placed it behind his back as he drank. “Do you mean Nathaniel Van Allan?”
“You know him?”
“New York’s elite only mingle with one another. My mother’s been ‘friends’ with Mrs. Van Allan for years. We were both invited, but she just said she would go on her own.”
The way he said friends made me wonder how he, from one of the elite families, could be so down-to-earth and relaxed. Yes, he always dressed well, and yes, he owned expensive things, but he never came off as being a snob, at least not anymore. Even in the beginning, when I’d seen him as Dr. Asshole, I still understood that he was acting that way because he was angry and hurt. He genuinely did care about others; I could see it the day I was at the hospital.