Husband Material

The Engagement

It was waiting for me when I got back from class, sitting on kitchen table where my roommate had put it after sorting through the mail. The envelope was a creamy colour. My name and address were carefully printed in gold ink on the middle. When I saw her return address in the top left hand corner, I knew exactly what was inside. I got out my letter knife and carefully dragged it over the envelope seam, splitting it open. I lifted the thick piece of paper out. It was bordered with an ornate golden filigree and the embossed cursive font proclaimed:

"You are cordially invited to the wedding of Mia Thomas and Nicholas Greene on Saturday June 25th, 2022 at 11:00 AM at Grace Bible Chapel. Reception to follow at Club Merveille. Please RSVP to return address."

I ran my fingers delicately over the words, grinning like an idiot. It was finally happening. My best friend of 21 years was finally getting married. And it was only three months away.

I could remember when I first got the call 7 months ago. Mia was laughing breathlessly, in her usual way, and could hardly get her words out. From that reaction I knew exactly what had happened. We were both cheering and giggling in glee for about ten minutes before either of us said a word. Eventually we both calmed down and I demanded to know every detail of how he had finally popped the question. Nick, her boyfriend of 2 years, had asked her for a date a week before. He had made a reservation at their favourite restaurant, Club Merveille. It was a beautiful evening, not too chilly but not too hot. The sun was setting and reflecting off the water of the lake that their patio table overlooked. She had dressed up in a lavender chiffon wrap dress, which she told me was strategic. She knew lavender made her skin glow. She said his reaction was just "wow", not dead pan, but in awe.

He did all the right gentlemanly things: got the doors for her, he pulled out her chair, he stared at her appreciatively, but not like a creep. He was acting strange though, kind of like he was on edge. Dinner came and went, I won't bore you with the details. Mia was very thorough when she told me though; I got a full account of the debate over the steak or the fettuccine Alfredo, her ravings about the chocolate cheesecake he ordered for desert, and every single thing that he said. I might have been annoyed, had she not seemed so happy. After dinner, he took her down to the beach. The sun was fading out, and the moon and stars had appeared.

"What happened next?" I urged her, after she sighed contentedly and then fell silent.

"Oh," she started up again, as if waking from a daydream. "He took out his phone and started playing our song, you know–"

I nodded and we said in unison: "Don't Go Breaking My Heart!"

"Naturally." I concurred, "because that's how you two always end every silly argument-"

"Yes! Anyway, he started into this horrifying interpretive dance. Like I'm talking arms and legs flailing everywhere!"

"Well, anyone looks like a klutz compared to you, little miss Ballerina." Mia was a member of the National Ballet Company. One of her favourite hobbies was mocking the rest of us two-left-footed people.

"I'm serious, Jo, it was actually horrible. But it was really cute too...so I just decided to dance horribly with him. We were kicking up sand and laughing uncontrollably and then I was spinning around and then it happened. He dropped onto one knee, and he had a ring." She dissolved into another happy sigh. I could imagine her face over the phone. She would be beaming ear to ear, her dimples showing on her blushing cheeks.

"What did he say? When he held out the ring?"

"It was pretty cheesy, I'll admit...but it was also really sweet!"

"Just get to it already!" I exclaimed impatiently.

"Fine! He said: 'we started out this relationship, determined not to mess things up by getting ahead of ourselves. So, instead we just became friends. And in the past two years you've become my best friend, my partner in crime, my sidekick. And I never want to be away from your side: Mia Thomas, will you marry me?'"

We both sighed together. I turned over from my stomach to my back, my eyes closed, picturing the scene. I murmured, "that's not cheesy at all. That's really romantic."

"It is, isn't it?" she stated. Then we both just sort of breathed into the phone. I wanted to hug her and jump up and down screaming. But instead I just told her that I was happy for her, and then we hung up. It was 1:00 AM. I lay on my bed awake for another two hours though, and realizing that there was actually a small part of me that wasn't happy for her.

There was actually a tiny, yet horrible, part of me that was jealous and angry.

Mia is the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me, she's my best friend. So don't get me wrong here: I love her. But what's wrong with Mia is that there is absolutely nothing wrong with her. She's hilarious, she's genuinely kind, she's extremely intelligent. Beyond her inward beauty, she's physically gorgeous. She has shoulder length blonde hair that perfectly frames her heart shaped face. Her blue eyes cannot be concealed by her long dark lashes. She is slender and graceful in all her movements. She's perfect. And that is where I find fault.

Beside her, I'm plain. Ugly. Invisible. When I look at both of us, side by side, I understand why everyone always chose her above me.