Meet Me in the Afterglow

By Wang Yingyue

“...Are brides supposed to be smoking on their wedding day?”

She jolted, straightening up from where she leaned against the balustrade. His voice, a sonorous baritone, had snapped her out of her reverie. Reluctantly, she took a deep breath and spun in the heavy white dress she wore, facing him with a cigarette dangling in between her lips.

“...It’s you.” She answered flatly, willing herself to maintain her typical impassive expression as she stepped aside to make more space on the balcony in a half-hearted attempt to welcome his presence. Once more, she brought the Zippo lighter to the white end of her cigarette, trying to set it alight.

“Yeah. I’m your groom’s… acquaintance.” He clarified as he stood beside her on the balcony overlooking the view of the metropolitan in the horizon, rubbing his nape in a manner akin to a diffident teenage boy’s. He set the half-empty wine glass on the top of the balustrade before reaching into the pocket of his trousers and offering her his own lighter to her. “Try mine.”

“Thanks.” She took his proffered lighter and lit the end of her cigarette before holding it back out to him, their fingertips brushing against each other as she returned the lighter. Her breathing caught in her throat; at once, she pulled her gloved hand back, as if she had just gotten burnt, averting her gaze to avoid seeing the fleeting hurt in his eyes. Stupid corset. I can barely move around properly in this puffy dress, now I can’t breathe.

A few stifling, insipid moments passed, the silence blanketing them a heavy burden on their shoulders. Eventually, she relented and broke the silence, gesturing to her cigarette. “...You want one?”

“No, thanks. I don’t smoke, remember?”

His response coaxed a snicker from her; she shook her head, wryly grinning at him as she blew out a cloud of cigarette smoke from her mouth, glazing at the wine glass in his grasp.

“Yeah, because you’re probably still an alcoholic. How’s your liver doing?” He remained silent for a while, taking a few small, careful sips from the wine glass before letting out a faint chuckle.

“Probably no better than your lungs.”

At his witty comment, she tossed her head back in amusement, peals of laughter escaping her throat.

“Okay, you got me there. I’ve been trying to quit, but it isn’t working.” She pulled the cigarette away from her lips, blowing out more tendrils of smoke that lingered around them.

“I understand. Old habits die hard.”

He frowned at the sight of the wine glass resting in between his palm and fingers, a hint of resignation in his voice. Sensing the tension forming in between them, she took the initiative to slice through it with a question turning to face him– only to regret it the next second.

…You’re just as beautiful as the day we lost each other.

“Wait, you said you knew my husband. How…?” She trailed off upon realizing how obvious the answer to her inquiry was– she resisted the urge to fling herself off the balcony for the foolish query that only added on to the overall awkwardness.

“Oh. Uh… We’re business partners. Yeah.” He nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line as he fiddled with the cufflinks on his sleeves.

“Right.”

“Right.”

“So, uh… I assume he invited you?”

“Well, sort of. He just texted me last week and told me that his wedding reception is today.” He confirmed, taking another sip from the wine glass in his hand. “He wanted me to come, so I came.”

“Did you know–”

“No.” He cut her off mid sentence, shaking his head at once. “Your name is a rather common one, so I didn’t think much of it. Turns out, it really is you.”

With a bitter chuckle, he tipped the wine glass and finished off its contents in one hearty gulp– she tensed up; the gesture was too familiar, yet her memories of it were those of a distant past, back when they were both much, much younger and more naive.

“...How many years has it been? Five, right–?” She began again, but once more, he was quick to interrupt.

“Seven years, three months, 11 days, 22 hours and…” He raised his arm to read his wristwatch, squinting at the time displayed there. “...And 19 minutes, 43 seconds.”

She flinched at his words, letting her gaze fall to the forgotten cigarette lying in between her slender, gloved fingers– some of the ashes from the lit cigarette had gathered on top of the delicate lace of her glove, staining the white with dark soot. She blew the ashes away, not wanting to stain her gloves any more.

“That’s… oddly specific.” She commented, snuffing out her cigarette as she avoided his eyes, which never left her from the very moment he had joined her on the balcony.

“I’ve always been the one with the better memory between the two of us.” He muttered, his solemn expression accentuating the grave tone of his voice. “It’s been years, and I can’t tell if your memory is just terrible, or it’s just that you never cared–”

His words caused her to whip her head around to face him at last with an accusing finger jabbed into his chest. “Listen here– don’t you dare blame me for us falling apart when you know–”

“I am not blaming you.” He snapped, the look in his dark eyes able to freeze an entire ocean’s worth of water as he grasped her wrist, halting the jabbing motions of her manicured nail. She stiffened, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat picking up its pace. “I am just… disappointed with how things ended between us.”

“Disappointed…?” She echoed, unable to keep the question out of her voice–her heart pounded loudly in her ears like a pair of hummingbird’s wings. “What do you mean disappointed? It… it was a mutual decision that we came to. We agreed to go our separate ways because we are not good for each other.”

He gazed around, ensuring that no one else was within earshot before he reached his large, warm hands out and cupped her cheeks, pressing his forehead right against hers. His lips quivered as he whispered, agony and longing weighing on every word leaving his mouth.

“...Your memory really, really sucks.” He let out a chuckle, his voice trembling and brittle with emotion– she couldn’t move, entirely taken aback by his bold actions; the worst thing was that she couldn’t even bring herself to push him away, as anyone else would in her shoes. “Didn’t we promise each other to try again once we have healed from all our wounds? Once we have freed ourselves from the shackles of our past? Didn’t we promise each other that?”

“We… We did.” She eventually managed to reply, each word scratching at her throat and constricting her airways. Her hands trembled at her sides, manicured nails digging into the expensive lace and silk of her wedding dress. “But we made that promise when we were eighteen, back then when we were young, naive teenagers who didn’t know a single thing about this world. We really thought that we were irrevocably infatuated with each other, that our love for each other will survive the ups and downs of our lives, and that our feelings will remain unyielding and steadfast through hell and back– but nothing lasts forever.”

Taking a deep breath, she took in a deep breath and pulled away from him, dropping the cigarette between her fingers to the floor– his anguished expression only intensified, his dark eyes clouded over with the first onslaught of tears, and she felt her heart shatter all over again as it did seven years ago.

“No, no, please. Please. You’ve already moved on entirely from me?” He pleaded, taking a step towards her, ignoring his wine glass on the balustrade entirely as she turned her back to him, facing the open balcony doors that would bring her back to the wedding reception. “Don’t you wish for us to try again? I’ve changed, I promise–”

“So have I.” She shook her head, adjusting the wedding veil atop her dark hair in an attempt to reel in her emotions that threatened to break her calm veneer. “We may have been lovers in the past, but we have both changed. I’m no longer the girl you fell in love with, nor are you the boy I loved.”

“Don’t you remember? All those crazy plans we made?” He choked out, reaching out to grasp her arm again– she managed to dodge his touch at the last second. “How you always wanted a ball gown for your wedding day? How we’d have red velvet cake on the day? How you’d want fireworks in the night sky during the wedding reception? How this hotel was our dream hotel to host our wedding at?”

“The Afterglow.” She muttered the hotel’s name, not looking at him as he stood in front of her. “Yes, I had my dream wedding, and so what?”

“Don’t… don’t you miss what we had?” He ran his hands through his dark hair, tears coursing down his smooth cheeks. “I should’ve been the one waiting for you at the altar, the one to recite those vows with you, the one to slide that wedding ring on your finger.”

“Heavens above…” She swallowed the sob rising up her throat before she reached out to cup his cheeks, brushing away his tears as gently as she could. “Don’t you get it? We are not good for each other. We both are hurt people that hurt each other when we’re together. We both deserve better than each other. Let me go, please. Your happiness doesn’t lie within me. I kept our promise: to meet each other in The Afterglow for a wedding.” She dropped her hands and headed towards the balcony doors once more, forcing herself to never look back.

“It was supposed to be our wedding, ours, and not you and someone else’s–!”

“Fate works in such peculiar ways, doesn’t it? You meet me in The Afterglow for a wedding after seven years have passed, only for it to not be ours.” She brushed away the sole tear cascading down her face before he noticed, striding away hurriedly to return to her wedding reception. “Thank you for keeping your promise. I’m sorry, but you’re too late.”