I'd received an invitation to Ed and Elizabeth's wedding. The last time I'd seen Ed was at the lake, that horrible night with Jeff. I felt Ed really had been a friend to me in some ways; he'd helped me endure that last year of marriage with Jeff. He'd offered me a way out if I needed it. A wave of sadness settled inside of me; I felt empty because I realized that had helped me because we had been intimate. It was the affair. It seemed as though back then, my sexuality was all I had. I had loved those afternoons with him in the cottage. I liked the private side of him. We both knew we wouldn't end up together, but he told me often that he was in love with me. He had grown angry towards Jeff; but there it was less than a year later and they were the same close friends they had always been. It seemed Jeff's acts of violence towards me hadn't tainted their friendship at all.

I stood with the envelope in one hand, the invitation in another. The invitaitons were a pale blue linen with silver lettering. The "E" from Edward and the "E" From Elizabeth were elaborate script that crossed over one another elegantly. It gave me the sense that they were getting tangled up more than tying the knot. None the less, they were tasteful—of course they were. Just like everything those people did; the invitations and little rsvp cards were fine, tasteful and esquisite. The wedding was to be held at Ed's family's home on the lake. It gave me an unsettling feeling. I knew it would be a display of wealth and privilege. I put the invitation down on the counter and turned towards the window but didn't look out, I was too caught up in my thoughts. I reconsidered how much credit I'd given Ed. I'd changed. I wouldn't have been as gullible with him. I would have labeled it what it was, an affair. He wasn't in love with me. I couldn't imagine Matt saying things like "you're so Goddamned gorgeous. I can't get enough of you." Through my new lens, it seemed insincere and vulgar where in the past I thought that was the only way men seduced women. I'd learned that it was inauthentic? That wouldn't have make it necessarily except I'd allowed myself to be duped and vulnerable. Both love affairs I'd known as a woman –Jeff and Ed—were full of that sort of seduction. I believe they thought I was beautiful, but that was the sum of my worth. It was my greatest asset.

Then there was Matt. We'd been seeing each other over six months by the time Ed and Elizabeth's wedding rolled around. Even from the start -our first conversation in the coffee shop- I'd felt respected. I was a person first and foremost. When he was flirtatious, it was loving and respectful. He didn't manipulate me, set me off balance and then seduce me. He was interested in me and my ideas. When we finally made love, after two months of dating, it was gentle and safe. We were both offering something. It seemed so natural. The first time he told me he loved me, it was with sincereity. He wasn't saying it as part of a seduction ritual like Jeff always had. We were reading one of Tenessee William's plays. I didn't remember which one. That was something we did often, drink wine and read famous works or a new play of his. We were sitting right next to each other on the couch when he put his book down. I had turned to him.

His face was serious. "Don't feel like you have to say anything at all."

I had thought he was still referring to the script."But it's my line." I said.

He smiled. "Sorry." He shook his head and kept his eyes on me.

"What is it?"

"I wanted to tell you I love you. Bad timing. The middle of your line."

I'd asked Matt to attend Ed and Elizabeth's wedding with me. He was more than happy to be my date. I knew it would be a coming out of sorts for me. But I thought why shouldn't I? I was different and it would be easier with Matt there by my side. Besides, I didn't think I could engage in the socialite small talk that had been my obligation as Jeff's wife. What would it be like now that we were getting divorced? I'd never liked events with those people, particularly the women. We'd moved around with the women like butterflies; fluttering here and there but really hovering over our men. No. That wasn't fair. The women in that group had support me during the worst of it. They'd tried to protect me when Jeff flaunted his affairs at parties, right there in front of me. They made it clear that they were on my side. They were allies but in comparison to my new friends, they seemed weak to me. I doubt any of my feminist friends would have encouraged me implicitly or explicitly to accept Jeff's treatment of me because I was a woman and Jeff was my husband.

The wedding was held on the shore Lake Michigan as was the reception. Ed's parents owned an enormous house on the water. I remembered that Ed had told me they bought it when he moved to Chicago. They were still in Massachusetts but wanted a place to stay when they visited. Ed had grown up the same way Jeff had. Ed wasn't as arrogant, but he was just as privileged. When we arrived, Elizabeth was upstairs with her bride's maids. I was sure she would look beautiful. She was sophisticated and elegant. She always looked stunning. She was a woman who had class. She never came across as judgemental or petty. She knew how to subtly command a conversation when she needed to. Yet she remained demure and elegant. She left the impression that Ed was the fortunate one to have her. That her station was somehow higher than his. It was convincing, even I felt a little spellbound by her. She had perfect auburn hair cut shoulder length. Her eyes were bright green. Where people at one time had said that Jeff and I resembled film stars, Ed and Elizabeth looked like royalty.

Matt went inside to hand our coats up and get us a drink. I waited outside the house. Just then Ed came rushing by. He passed me and then stopped. He walked back and gave me a kiss on the cheek, "Eve. Darling. I'm so glad you could come. Did you come alone?"

I shook my head, "I have a friend with me."

"A friend" he said affectionately.

I smiled at him.

I have got to make sure that Elizabeth is doing all right—through a closed door, of course, I can't lay eyes on her until she walks down the aisle. You know how traditional she is."

"I'm sure she'll be lovely."

"I'm sure." He stopped and inspected me. "You look great, Eve."

"Thank you."

He leaned closer to me, I could smell the gin on his breath. He whispered, "I don't know why I didn't scoop you up after Jeff left."

I took a deep breath. What would I have said in the past? Would I have exchanged a secret glance? Why hadn't I remembered this side of Ed? The side of him that would sleep with his friend's wife. I could feel myself growing flush but none the less. I kept my expression neutral and in a serious tone. I said, "What makes you think I would want you to scoop me up?"

A remorseful expression descended on his face. He looked as if I'd slapped him. He looked down at the ground and then back at me, "God Eve. I'm sorry I said that."

"Shouldn't you get upstairs and make sure things are ok?"

"Really," he looked worried. "Really Eve. I'm sorry."

Matt showed up and stood next to me. He handed me a glass of champagne and smiled at Ed.

I introduced them. "Matt, this is my friend, Ed. He's the groom."

"Congratulations." Matt said.

Ed nodded. "It's nice to meet you. I hate to run but I've got to go check on the bride."

I raised my eyebrows and took a sip. "Should we find our seat?" I asked.

We were placed at a large round table. It was set formally. I saw my name plate, "Mrs. Eve Lambert." Next to it was a name plate that said "Guest." It made sense I hadn't told them Matt's name when I rsvp'd.

Matt picked up my name plate. "Hmmm." He said.

I laughed and nodded. I felt very nervous and it was comforting to have Matt's perspective to balance the weight of oppressive snobbery all around me. "Hmmm. Indeed. We've only been separated for a year. Living with his fiancé the whole time."

He turned serious. "Does it upset you? I don't mind, but you must feel some regret."
I shook my head. "Really I don't. I just wish he'd sign the divorce papers."

Matt motioned to pull the seat out then stopped. "Do you want to go for a walk and talk about it? We have time."

"No. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought that up here. It just makes me so angry that he's holding back on that."

Matt pulled my chair out and we both sat down. I was glad for my wine. I took a long sip. I had already taken a mental note that staff were circulating often, filling glasses before they were even empty.
Matt rubbed my hand. "He'll be here won't here?"

I looked around. I didn't see Jeff. "Yes, Ed's his closest friend." I rolled my eyes and took another sip. I hadn't told Matt about Ed. I actually hadn't told him too much about my problems with Jeff. The affairs would have been enough for most marriages to end. I didn't need to tell Matt that Jeff's infidelity had been a condition of my marriage and so was his violence. I hadn't told Matt those things because I knew once he'd heard it, there would be no understanding of why I'd been in love with Jeff. I felt—maybe it hadn't been true—but I felt that, other than Joan, once a person knew how Jeff had hurt me they formed such an indelible impression of both of us that my love no longer held any legitimacy. I had loved Jeff. We had many intimate and happy moments. Often he had been my closest friend and I admired him. I genuinely enjoyed hearing him talk to me about his art. I loved his art. I believed he was a genius.

Matt took another sip. I knew he would accept whatever I was feeling. I knew he understood that getting divorced after 10 years of being together was complicated. He himself was divorced. He had loose strings that still held him to that old relationship.

"Some day I'll tell you everything," I said and kissed him on the cheek. As I pulled away, I noticed Jeff at a table not to far away. He was looking at me, drinking what looked like a gin and tonic. Once our eyes met and he turned back to the man he had been talking to. I recognized the man from one of the parties I'd been to, or maybe it was an art opening. Either way, I'd never met him but knew he was likely a successful artist or a professor at the art institute. After that, I couldn't take my eyes off their table. I noticed Anna sitting next to Jeff. I realized that was the first time I'd seen her. When Jeff and I separated, he immediately put up a wall. He never came by the house; he arranged for drivers to pick up or drop off the children every other weekend when they went over to his apartment. I knew right away it was her. I tried to see if she was wearing an engagement ring, if they really were planning to get married. I felt resentment. Of course he was going to marry her; if you live with someone you're on your way to getting married. Besides, it was all part of Jeff's formula for life. The part that bothered me was her sophistication. I studied her. She looked younger than me. She was very, very pretty. If I'd seen her on the street I might have mistaken her for Audrey Hepburn. Her thin elegant mannerisms. She had on a bracelet that looked expensive, I knew that Jeff likely had given it to her. A part of the seduction. What I noticed most was her arm on Jeff's as he spoke. He didn't acknowledge her; he kept on talking to the other man. I was almost paralyzed. Not because I was jealous of her for that role. Seeing her like that didn't make me want him back. It was because Anna was just acting just as I had when I first married Jeff. It was so shocking to me, appearance. Her deference to him was blatant. Intended, I thought. My expression must have revealed my contempt.

"What is it?" he asked.

I woke from my thoughts.

"Jeff is over there. Two tables away."

"Which one is he?"

"Over there in the tuxedo. He's likely one of the groomsmen."

"The one drinking the gin and tonic?"

"Yes. That's him."

"Do you want to leave? Or go walk somewhere? Do you want to go over and say hello?"

I shook my head still looking back at Anna periodically. She hadn't said a word. Instead she was watching Jeff eagerly and smiling while he spoke. She hadn't looked away from him that whole time. And he hadn't looked at her once. He seemed self possessed again. It seemed to me like the old Jeff had returned. I imagined him in private with her. Seducing her. "Look at me." The nervousness. "Come here. You are so lovely. I can't help myself." I knew she would feel so honored to finally get his attention. I knew he would make love to her after he'd showered her with adoration. The price for his attention was his condescension. I wanted to run over and warn her because I also knew that it wouldn't be too long before any opinion on her part would end up with a strike against her face. I felt dizzy and took a deep breath.

"Are you all right?" Matt asked. It had been a long time since that kind of anxiety had affected me. I was sure it was just memories. I imagining her life with him, start to finish. Well, maybe her finish wouldn't be the same as mine. Maybe she would never try to leave. That was what made him furious enough to want to take my life.

I lifted my champagne glass and took several sips. Matt had his hand on my arm. I felt, from his silent compassion, that he was getting a hint of what was underneath my references to "when things got bad," in my marriage. Really I didn't know. When I looked back Jeff was gone. Just then the group of guests were summoned to the ceremony. I watched them all line up in front of a large white gazebo. I things in a sort of surreal reality. Chairs were arranged in perfect rows. The wedding party –including Jeff- were posting as a group for the photographer. The day was perfect, yellow sunshine and glistening reflections on the lake. The air was still. I knew the colors in the pictures would be vibrant and perfect. It seemed that everything always worked for them. They expended so little effort and yet their lives were picture perfect. I watched them posing for the photographs, Jeff periodically standing off to the side. I stared at him unbeknownst to him, he was smoking a cigarette and talking with Ed as Elizabeth and the bride's maids posed for the camera. I recognized one of the bride's maids: Eleanor. I would have said she was the woman in Jeff's group that I had been closest too. Really we hadn't been close at all. Seeing her down there on the lawn, laughing and posing with Elizabeth, she was a stranger. It wouldn't have been awkward at all to pass without a hello. That wasn't a friend.

A little more time passed. Matt and I drank down a glass of champagne and found a seat towards in one of the back rows of white painted chairs. Ed was waiting for the ceremony to start and he looked nervous. I wondered if he was happy. The morning that Jeff and I married, I had been getting ready and I opened a jewelry box and found a small stack of pictures from Jeff's first wedding. The scene was identical to this one. His first wife, Margaret, looked excruciatingly miserable in the photographs. I'd asked him if he had been happy on that day. He had said "that was the most miserable day of my life." The day I found the pictures was the same day he and I went to the courthouse and signed a marriage certificate. That was the day we got married. We didn't have any kind of fancy ceremony or even a honeymoon. He and I never really courted, why should there have been an engagement. Once Jeff and I met, we simply fell into a place together. This secret, dark and passionate place. The gravitational pull was so strong that once we were there, we thought we'd always been there and neither of us had a conception of how to get out.

The ceremony was a blur and I did want to leave with Matt. I wanted to run back to my new life. I wanted to be sitting at the cafe talking about poetry. I wanted to be at a reading, smiling at Matt as the small audience snapped their fingers instead of clapping. I wanted to be in a room full of smoke, talking with Matt into the late hours. I wanted to be making love to him, a gentle kind of love that was followed by more talking and laughing. Chinese food in bed. Never running out of things to talk about. Smoking cigarettes and engrossed in deep conversations until after midnight. When we woke up it always seemed like our discussion had never ended. We'd light a cigarette and pick up where we left off. Even with that much closeness I couldn't find a way to tell him about the things Jeff had done to me.

When the ceremony ended and people started back under the tents for the reception I turned to Matt. "Why don't we steal a bottle of champagne and go further down the shore. Why don't we get drunk on the beach away from all this?"

He started laughing. "I was thinking of escape plans for us too."

"It's too much isn't it?" I asked, half feigning the dramtic sentiment of an old Hollywood movie. We continued on like that for a moment.

"It's everything we say we're against. Isn't it?"

"Yes, are we hypocrites?"

"No," he turned and kissed me. "We're spies. We'll expose them in our writing."

"Will you go get our coats? Do you think you can steal a couple of bottles of champagne from the bar?"

"Do I think I can? Do you think it's the first time I've stolen a bottle of alcohol?"

I liked him so much. Who else had ever been such an ally to me. I looked at him. He wore his hair longer than Jeff did. He the body of a stage actor, a different kind of handsome than Jeff. Jeff was unquestionably good looking. He always reminded me of a put together film star from the 40s and 50s. His eyes were pale blue and he was such a master at seduction and charm that he had the same effect on most woman as a movie star might have. He was the kind of person that had a magneticism about him. He was the person that your eyes kept landing on in a room. Even if he never regarded you at all, you would have studied him all night. Matt was different. He was some what more muscular. Although Jeff's painting was certainly a physical task, Matt's life was more active and required physical strength and stamina. He was a bicyclist . Like me, Matt was younger than Jeff by ten years.

I smiled at him. "You look handsome, "I whispered.

He kissed me. "You look sophisticated and pretty."

"All right. I'll wait here for you. I'll be over there, next to the gazebo. I'll walk over the rest of them leave." The band music was starting up and when I looked up towards the house, the tents appeared to be glowing. Voices rose above the rapidly approaching evening air.

"See you in a minute." He kissed me on the lips. Looked at me and kissed me again.

I turned towards the gazebo and everyone had walked back up to the reception. There was one group of three people a little behind the rest, but by the time I got to the gazebo they'd be gone too. I waited there. I'd positioned myself so people couldn't see me. Even at that, I knew that Jeff would come and talk to me. He would. I just knew he would.

It wasn't moments after I'd walked over to the gazebo that Jeff was standing before me. I had suspected he would turned back into the arrogant and manipulative man that I was married to and when I saw him standing before me with the fatherly look on his face, it was abundantly clear that he was an asshole again. The last few months of our marriage had been an anomaly. I didn't know how he'd kept it in for those months. How had he been a real human being? A real father? A real husband? I realized that the last time I'd seen him we had spent the night making love. I had told him I loved him. Just as I was disgusted to see him a second before, I suddenly missed him.

"Look who it is." He lit a cigarette. "I guess I knew you'd be here."

"How are you?" I asked.

"Doing well. I was wondering the same about you. What have you been doing with yourself?"

I felt as though I needed to answer, maybe there was also a part of me even wanted to impress him.

"I finished a six week teaching program."

"Did you? I didn't know you were going to teach." He took a drag and examined me.

"Of course you knew—It doesn't matter. I've got a job at a high school on the south side. Starting this fall."

He raised his eyebrows. "Why would you want to do a thing like that?"

I felt shame descend upon me. I looked down and felt as if I would cry. It wasn't that I cared so much about what he thought. It was just that I had slipped into his orbit of power over me. I felt insecure and diminished.

He continued."It's hardly safe for a woman to go over there and teach."

Then, the new person in me rose to the surface. I looked at him. I was in a four-year college getting a degree. I'd finished teacher training and was hired for a job that I wanted. I was living my life how I thought was best.

"I'm doing it," I said calmly holding his gaze with no deference. The amusement on his face dissipated. I was no longer a child. Maybe his Audrey Hepburn fiancé was. Good for them. He'd found a replacement. "I'm doing it –Jeff-- because it's my choice. I can do what I want with my life now. I want to hear what teenagers have to say. I want to inspire them."

He looked up and watched the smoke from his cigarette rise and disappear into the night.

"That's very noble."

I turned and saw Matt acting like a robber pretending to sneak past the rows of white chairs. It was dark outside and I think he hadn't seen Jeff because he stopped abruptly. He returned to normal and stopped acting silly. When he made it to us. He looked at me and then inspected Jeff.

Jeff had a look of pure jealousy on his face. "Who's this?"

I took a deep breath. "This is my friend, Matt Klein. He's a playwright."

"Is that so?" Jeff said. It was so condescending. A moment passed.

"It is" Matt held out his hand for Jeff to shake it, but Jeff just kept looking at him. It was a show of masculinity. He didn't return Matt's gesture.

Jeff took a drag and squinted his eyes at Matt. "How come I've never heard of you?"

"I couldn't tell you," Matt said, his eyes fixed on Jeff.

"You know," Jeff said as he tossed the cigarette to the ground. "Eve's still my wife."

I was stunned.

Matt kept his eyes on Jeff and just offered a subtle nod. He let out a deep breath and smiled. He looked at me. "Should we go, Eve?"

"Yes." I answered. It was mostly to myself. Resigned, sad. I walked over to Jeff and gave him a slight embrace. "It's good to see you."

I went back near Matt and he and I turned and started walking away, towards Lake Michigan. The moon was high in the sky and it was almost full. There was a blue light surrounding us and as we walked down the path a short distance. I noticed how the lake caught the moonlight. It seemed poetic to me; something about the shades of night, walking away from Jeff and the voices from the reception growing quieter until they faded completely.