Chapter 26 - A different ballroom
Three years after Olivia’s baby shower, my company held its annual awards dinner at another hotel.
Second-floor ballroom.
Balcony.
Chandelier.
I almost declined.
Then I got angry at architecture.
So I went.
Daniel came with me.
We had remarried two months earlier.
Small courthouse ceremony.
Julia.
Two friends.
No Karen.
Olivia invited?
No.
Not because she was permanently excluded.
Because our remarriage was not family repair theater.
Daniel and I wanted six witnesses and dinner afterward.
Done.
At the work event, we sat upstairs.
I chose the seat.
Near the rail.
That surprised him.
He did not comment.
During cocktails, I stood beside it.
Looked down.
People below.
Tables.
Servers.
My body remembered.
Thigh against wood.
Empty air.
Then Daniel came beside me.
Not touching.
“Want to move?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
There.
No rescue.
No command.
We stayed.
Five minutes later, somebody from accounting asked me about quarterly staffing.
The balcony became boring.
That was reclamation.
Not standing there dramatically declaring:
May you like
You don’t own me.
Just discussing spreadsheets beside a railing.
