The City of Mirrors (The Passage #3)

His hand fumbled in his pocket, and I knew. My stomach plunged, then the rest of me. As he bent to one knee, my friend withdrew the small velvet box. He opened the lid and held it before her. A huge, nervous grin was on his face. I saw the stone. It was enormous, made for a queen.

“Liz, I know we’ve talked about it. But I wanted to make it official. I feel like I’ve loved you all my life.”

“Jonas, I don’t know what to say.” She looked up and laughed uneasily. Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. “This is so corny!”

“Say yes. That’s all you have to do. I promise to give you everything you want in life.”

I wanted to be ill.

“C’mon,” Stephanie said. “What are you waiting for?”

Liz looked at her father. “At least tell me he asked you first.”

The man was smiling, a conspirator. “That he did.”

“And what did you tell him, O wise man?”

“Honey, it’s really your decision. It’s a big step. But I’ll say I’m not opposed.”

“Mom?”

Ever so slightly, the woman was crying. She nodded ardently, speechless.

“God,” Stephanie moaned, “I can’t stand the suspense! If you don’t marry him, I will.”

As Liz looked back at Jonas, did her eyes pause at my face? My memory says she did, though perhaps I imagined this.

“Well, I, um—”

Jonas removed the ring from the box. “Put it on. That’s all you have to do. Make me the happiest man alive.”

She stared at it, expressionless. The damn thing was fat as a tooth.

“Please,” said Jonas.

She looked up. “Yes,” she said, and nodded. “My answer is yes.”

“You really mean it?”

“Don’t be dense, Jonas. Of course I mean it.” At last she smiled. “Get over here.”

They embraced, then kissed; Jonas slid the ring onto her finger. I looked out over the water, unable to bear the scene. But even its broad blue expanse seemed to mock me.

“Oh!” Liz’s mother cried. “I’m so happy!”

“Now, no sneaking around tonight, you two,” her father laughed. “You’re in separate rooms for the duration. Save it for the wedding night.”

“Daddy, don’t be gross!”

Jonas turned to her father and extended his hand. “Thank you, sir. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I’ll do everything in my power to make her happy.”

They shook. “I know you will, son.”

Out came the champagne, which Liz’s father had kept in the wings. Glasses were filled, then raised.

“To the happy couple,” Oscar said. “Long lives, happiness, a house full of love.”

The champagne was delicious. It must have cost a bundle. I could barely swallow it down.

I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to.

As soon as I was sure Jonas was out cold, I snuck from the house. It was well after midnight; the moon, fat and white, had risen over the sound. I had no plan, only the desire to be alone with my feelings of desolation. I removed my shoes and took the stairs to the beach. Not a breath of wind blew; the world felt stuck. The tiniest of waves lapped upon the shore. I began to walk. The sand beneath my feet was still damp from the day of rain. The houses above me were all dark, some still boarded up, like tombs.

At a distance I saw someone sitting in the sand. It was Liz. I halted, uncertain what to do. She was holding a champagne bottle. She lifted it to her mouth and took a long drink. She noticed me, then looked away, but the damage was done; I couldn’t turn back now.

I sat on the sand beside her. “Hey.”

“Of course it would be you,” she said, slurring her words.

“Why ‘of course’?”

She took another swig. The ring was on her finger. “I noticed you didn’t say anything tonight. It’s considered polite, you know, to congratulate the bride-to-be.”

“Okay, congratulations.”

“You say that with such conviction.” She sighed mournfully. “Jesus, am I drunk. Get this away from me.”

She passed me the bottle. Just the dregs remained; I wished there were more. There were times to be sober, and this wasn’t one of them. I polished it off and tossed it away.

“If you didn’t want to, why did you say yes?”

“With everyone staring at me? You try it.”

“So back out. He’ll understand.”

“No, he won’t. He’ll ask and ask, and I’ll eventually give in and be the luckiest woman on earth, to be married to Jonas Lear.”

We were quiet for a time.

“Can I ask you something?” I said.

She laughed sarcastically. Her gaze was cast over the sea. “Why not? Everybody’s doing it.”

“That night in New York. I was asleep, and something happened. I felt something.”

“Did you now.”

“Yes, I did.” I waited. Liz said nothing. “Did you … kiss me?”

“Now, why would I do a thing like that?”

She was looking right at me. “Liz—”

“Shhh.” A frozen moment followed. Our faces were just a foot apart. Then she did something puzzling. She took off her glasses and put them in my hand.

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