The Boy with the Whiplash Tattoo

Nineteen

"You ready?" Aaron called through the bathroom door.
I swiped matte lipstick on, smacking my lips together and then straightening up.
"Almost!" I replied.
I checked my reflection and then opened the bathroom door.
He looked breathtaking in his black short sleeved shirt and black jeans, his curly hair falling into his eyes and his brown eyes bright. The shirt was tight enough to show his biceps and abs through the material. I was struck by how lucky I was to have been forced to marry such a beautiful man, and the thought made me almost laugh out loud.
Aaron was staring at me. I felt my skin heat under his unwavering gaze.
I was wearing a navy fitted dress which hugged my curves and matching heels. I felt more done up than even on my wedding day, because this was all my own choice.
"Beautiful," he whispered, "Beautiful, beautiful." And he grabbed me and kissed me, and I laughed.
I had never been so happy as I had been the last few days, and we were starting to see that maybe there really was a lifetime of love ahead of us.

He took my hand and we went outside. There was a little sports car waiting for us, gleaming red in the fading sunlight.
"It's adorable!" I exclaimed and he grinned happily at it.
"Where are we going?" I asked, but he just smiled mysteriously.
We put the convertible roof down and the wind rushed around as we drove, trying to tickle it's way through my thick hair and mess it up. Good thing I tied it back.
We drove a little way out of town, and he parked seemingly in the middle of nowhere. We got out and, holding hands, walked around the corner. The street we were on was lined with restaurants and pubs and clubs and even a hair salon.
The one we went into served the food of our homeland, and my face lit up. The smell as we walked in reminded me of my grandmother, who died when I was still quite young.
Aaron glanced at me and smiled when he saw the contented look in my eyes.
"Table for two?" He asked.
"Yes, what's the name?" The girl at the door was black, and young and pretty. I couldn't help but prickle slightly when Aaron looked at her. I wasn't  used to this sort of relationship, and wasn't sure how I should feel or behave.
"Jackson," Aaron answered.

She led us to our table, and it was just as beautiful as everything else that day. There was a tall candle in the middle of the table, two wine glass and two champagne flutes, and at least two of each type of cutlery. I'd never been in such a fancy place.

"Champagne?" The young waiter asked, and looked long at me, his gaze lingering on everything but my face. He smiled.
Aaron stiffened and gripped my hand possessively. I couldn't help but grin stupidly at that. We were both as terrible at this as each other
"The champagne is on the house," the waiter continued as he poured. "As its your anniversary."
When he was gone I stared at Aaron quizzically. He laughed.
"It's our 4 month anniversary," he explained.
I laughed too, amazed that we'd been married 4 months already. Sometimes it felt like a lifetime, and sometimes it felt like 4 weeks.
He tok my hand in his and kissed it.
"I have an anniversary present for you," he said with a smile.
I felt a pleased, yet bashful blush of colour creep up my neck.
He took out a small box, and I suddenly felt all eyes on us. I didn't like the feeling, it reminded me of our wedding day, when the last thing anyone was thinking of was our happiness.
Aaron didn't prolong my suffering, he simply slipped the ring quickly onto my finger, then glared round at everyone as if to tell them to mind their own business. They averted their eyes instantly.
It was a beautiful, dainty silver engagement ring, with a bright sapphire sparkling between two tiny diamonds. I stared at it admiringly and then kissed him, sweet and chastely on the lips.
"I didn't get you anything!" I gasped, feeling a little ashamed. I hadn't known we were celebrating, but I should've thought to buy him a gift anyway.
He smiled indulgently.
"Next time," he said, and that made me feel better.
We raised our glasses in a silent toast, not needing any words to tell each other how we felt. I loved our times like this, when we seemed almost to read each other's minds.
Our appetisers arrived, and we'd each chosen different things, so we shared, and spoke in hushed tones and laughing whispers. The rest of the world didn't exist that night, there was only the two of us and the dimmed lights and gentle music and good food.
It all made me sad, because we should've had many years of this already together, before we decided we were ready to spend the rest of our lives together, but for us it was the other way round. It didn't make any sense, and yet right then it barely seemed to matter.

Sometimes I caught myself holding my breath, as if I was afraid the moment would end and I'd come crashing back to reality. I felt like I was in a waking dream and this whole constructed world would soon fall to pieces. Sometimes I bit my lip too hard to try and wake myself up.

"Your sundae," the waiter said, shaking me out of my daydreams. I was staring at Aaron with such unveiled admiration I was sure everyone had noticed.
It was a massive chocolate and coffee flavoured concoction, with a spoon for each of us.
I scooped up a little, about to eat it, but Aaron stopped me.
"Let me," he said, grinning rather stupidly at me.