Voice Under My Skin

“You must be Leo’s cousin!”

The bride hugged Diana before she could answer. Over Claire’s shoulder, Leo went white above his designer tux.

Cousin. Two years of paying his rent shortfall, helping him get a better job, forgiving an earring in her bed that wasn’t hers. Apparently there was a word for all of it.

“His favorite cousin,” Claire added, drawing back. “He said you practically grew up together.”

Diana looked at him. He gave the smallest shake of his head.

Even today, he expected her to help him.

“We’ve known each other a while,” she said.

Claire squeezed her hand. Her smile was genuine, which made the whole thing worse. Eleven days ago, she had found Diana in Leo’s old photographs and asked to meet his family. Diana went to that coffee shop intending to tell the truth. Then Claire had talked about how lonely Leo’s childhood had been, and Diana understood he’d sold this woman an entirely different life.

She hadn’t found a way to tell her. She still owed her that. But she wouldn’t do it in front of a room full of guests, with Claire already wearing the dress.

“They’re waiting for you,” Diana said gently.

Claire hurried away. Leo leaned close.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t.”

He blinked. She walked past him before he could ask for anything else.

Her rented dress caught on a chair as she sat. She freed the hem, folded her hands, and fixed her eyes on the flowers. There were enough peonies to bury somebody. Right now, she had a suggestion.

The music began.

She had imagined this part going differently. Not this wedding; theirs. Something smaller, with her mother in the front row and a man who looked at her the way Leo was looking at Claire.

He had said he wasn’t ready for marriage in April. By June he’d had a fiancée.

Diana pressed her thumbnail into her palm.

Then the back of her neck prickled.

A man sat alone near the rear of the room. Dark suit, open collar, broad shoulders. A serpent tattoo disappeared beneath his shirt, its tail curling up the side of his neck. His champagne stood untouched beside him.

He was looking directly at her.

She raised an eyebrow, giving him a chance to look away.

He didn’t take it. Instead, one corner of his mouth lifted.

For one startling moment, she wanted to smile back.

She faced the altar. She was thirty-eight, attending her ex’s wedding under a false relationship, and apparently still capable of being distracted by a handsome man. There was probably still hope for her.

“In sickness and in health,” Leo promised.

Diana remembered buying her own cough medicine before he left for the weekend.

The scent of the flowers thickened. She could smell the woman in front of her hairspray, the wax dripping onto the candleholders, something sharp beneath the champagne. Every breath brought more of it.

She shifted in her chair. Heat crept up her spine.

Across the room, the stranger put his glass down. His expression had changed.

The violin drew out a note so thin it hurt her teeth.

No. She would not faint at this wedding. Leo would tell people she’d been overcome with happiness for him.

She got up and slipped through the side door.

In the washroom, cold water splashed over her wrists. She held them beneath the tap until her fingers ached, but the heat wouldn’t leave. Her heartbeat seemed too loud for the small room.

Breathe.

Diana lifted her head.

A man’s voice. Low, close, unmistakable. She had felt the word behind her left ear, as though someone had leaned in to say it.

There was nobody in the mirror but her.

“Hello?”

She checked the cubicles. Empty. The door hadn’t moved.

The tap kept running.

Diana turned it off and listened. Applause came through the wall. She had missed the kiss.

She ought to have felt relieved. Instead, she stood with wet hands, breath caught in her chest, waiting for a stranger to speak again.

Nothing.

She’d barely eaten. The room was crowded, the dress tight, the occasion humiliating. There were ordinary explanations for feeling ill. She clung to those as she dried her hands.

When she returned, the man at the back was on his feet.

His gaze went over her face, searching. She stopped beside her chair. Neither of them smiled this time.

Then someone passed between them with a tray, and the moment broke.

At the reception, Diana found sparkling water and a small plate of food. After a few bites, the room felt manageable again. She could hear the quartet without flinching. Her hands had stopped shaking.

Leo found her by the dessert table.

“Stay for the photographs,” he said. “Claire wants a few with family.”

“Then you’d better find some.”

His smile faltered. “Diana.”

“I’m not your cousin.”

“Keep your voice down.”

“It is down. I’m just finishing a sentence.”

He glanced over his shoulder. Claire was laughing with an older woman by the windows. She looked so happy that Diana’s anger hurt in a new place.

“I’m not going to ruin her wedding,” she said. “But I’m not posing for your family album. You’ll have to explain the missing cousin yourself.”

She set her plate down.

His hand closed around her wrist. “Don’t make this a thing.”

Before Diana could pull away, a low sound came from behind her shoulder. She felt it through her back.

Leo let go.

“Problem?”

The stranger stood beside her. Up close, he was bigger than she’d expected. His eyes went first to Leo’s hand, then to her wrist.

“No, sir,” Leo said. “No problem.”

Sir. Diana had listened to Leo complain about his boss for two years. She had never heard him use that voice.

He retreated without another word.

“Did you just growl at him?” she asked.

“I cleared my throat.”

“You should have somebody look at that.”

His mouth moved, almost a smile. “Did he hurt you?”

“No.” She rubbed the mark his fingers had left. “He’s usually better at doing it without touching me.”

The stranger’s expression went still.

Diana wished she hadn’t said that. “Sorry. Not your problem.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

The quiet way he said it made her look at him properly. Dark eyes. A hard jaw shadowed with stubble. He smelled clean, like cedar after rain. She wanted to move nearer, an impulse so unexpected that she stayed exactly where she was.

“Do you know Leo?”

“We’ve met.”

“He seems frightened of you.”

“Does that bother you?”

She considered it. “Less than it probably should.”

This time he smiled.

A waiter approached, saw him, and changed direction. Diana watched that happen, then turned back.

“Who are you?”

“Someone who would like to walk you out.”

“I haven’t said I’m leaving.”

“You picked up your bag before he stopped you.”

He had noticed. She felt the same little warmth she’d felt when he stood as she came back into the room.

“You’ve been watching me.”

“Yes.”

No embarrassment. No excuse about an empty seat behind her.

“All evening?”

“Most of it.” His gaze moved over her face. “You disappeared during the ceremony. Are you feeling better?”

For a moment she remembered the voice in the washroom. He hadn’t spoken then; she hadn’t heard his voice until now. She couldn’t trust the resemblance she wanted to find.

“Much better.”

“Good.”

He meant it. That was what unsettled her.

Across the room, Leo was staring at them. She had spent months trying to get his attention before he left. Now she had it, and it was useless.

“I’m not his cousin,” she said.

“I know.”

She should have asked how. Instead, she heard someone finally agreeing that the lie was ridiculous.

“I don’t normally leave weddings with strangers.”

“You can leave without me.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

His eyes warmed. “Then ask.”

Diana looked at the open collar, the tattoo, the hand resting loose at his side. She wanted that hand at her waist. Wanted to find out whether his mouth was as serious as the rest of him.

It had been a long time since wanting something felt like a reason to move toward it.

“If you walk me out,” she said, “where does the night end?”

“Wherever you decide.”

Diana set down the sparkling water she’d been holding all evening. She tucked her clutch under her arm and walked past the gift table, past Leo’s open mouth, past the string quartet sawing through a love song, and out through the double doors into the warm July night.

Gabriel followed, leaving her enough room to change her mind.

She didn’t.