But somehow, lying next to Dani, he was calm. As settled as he’d ever felt in his life. It was that same feeling of embodiment from earlier, but this time he also felt like his spirit, for lack of a better word, was involved. Everything felt profoundly right, so right he wasn’t worried about any of the upheaval that was to come. He welcomed it, in a way, if it would allow for more of this settled feeling.

“Do you really not have a condom?” Dani sounded incredulous.

“I really do not have a condom.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t expect to be having sex here.” He would have thought that was obvious.

“You didn’t expect to be having sex at a wedding? Aren’t weddings a major place where people hook up? Weren’t you trying to break your dry spell?”

He didn’t know what to say to that. He distinctly remembered going through his travel toiletries case to come here and dispassionately thinking, Toothbrush, check; toothpaste, check; deodorant, check; condoms, don’t need those.

“What about Lavinia?”

“What about her?”

“You were laughing with her when you came into the reception. You were late because of her. I had to start the toasts.”

Oh. He hadn’t made the mental leap from “hooking up at a wedding” to Lavinia the way Dani apparently had. “All right. You got me,” he said, trying for humor. “Lavinia and I were doing it in the coatroom. That’s why I was late.”

It didn’t work. She didn’t even smile.

Was she jealous? Was he a monster for wanting her to be? “I was laughing with Lavinia because, to my great surprise, she suggested a little subterfuge to get both sets of parents off our backs. We decided to be seen looking cozy, to make people fill in the blanks.” He wagged his eyebrows, trying again to amuse Dani. “Apparently it worked.”

She still didn’t laugh. “So Lavinia does have a sense of fun?”

“Pardon me?”

“You said you weren’t going to marry her because she didn’t have a sense of fun. She seems to have one after all.”

“I suppose she does.” He had indeed misjudged Lavinia based on that first meeting.

Dani raised her eyebrows as if she was coming to some conclusion that was supposed to be obvious.

Again, he had to wonder if she was jealous. Was that even possible? And again, why did that give him a little thrill?

He thought back to that night at the cottage, when she’d quizzed him about Lavinia, making jokes about them hyphenating their names. He’d snapped at her and felt bad about it immediately. Now, like then, he wished he could rewind. He was not the sort of person who played games, so he set out to explain, to ease her mind if it needed easing.