A Whispered Conversation
“I’m really, really glad you’re here.”
“I know. I’m glad I’m here, too, Ian.”
“Did you know that I was really afraid you wouldn’t want to marry me? And then I didn’t know if I should ask, because I wasn’t sure if you said no, if that would count as you breaking up with me. I really got on Pete’s nerves, worrying about it so much.”
“Let me guess—Pete was anti-proposal.”
“Nope. He thought I should do it, because either you would say no and he wouldn’t have to have you around anymore or you would say yes and you couldn’t break up with me.”
“He has a lot of faith in me. Bastard.”
“You know it’s not like that, Sloan. He’s Pete. He has serious paranoia issues. He’s convinced that if you break up with me, I’ll go into a decline and then the band will go down the shitter and never recover. So, really, it’s me he has a lot of faith in.”
“I’m not going to break up with you. I wasn’t going to break up with you.”
“Shh, Sloan, I know. Keep your voice down or you’ll wake up Kay.”
“Sorry, sorry. I guess we should go to sleep.”
“Probably.”
“I don’t want to, though. We never have time to talk anymore. You’re always so busy, and I know that’s not your fault, really, ‘cause this is a big deal, but there’s not too much for me to do.”
“I know. I miss having time with you. But we have tomorrow and the next day and the next day and the next day and all the days after that until we’re old and grey and I can’t sing anymore and both of us just sit around and think about how we had the day before and the day before and the day before.”
“That’s a nice thought.”
“Isn’t it, though? There’s a reason they let me write all the lyrics.”
“Goodnight, Ian.”
“Goodnight, my beautiful Sloan. I love you even though you’re laughing at me.”
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