Soon, I feel the whiskey kicking in, making me feel giddy, chirpy, and considerably more drunk than I was standing in the corridor. I take Logan’s hand and link arms with Karen as we leave our station at the bar, and immerse back into the crowded room in search of a fun and much needed distraction, and it doesn’t take us long to find one.

Near the stage, where the tables were cleared for dancing, we find a third of the people in the room standing in a huge circle with a spotlight dance floor in the middle of them. The crowd cheers and laughs and whoops at their entertainment and edging closer, I spy Buddy and Abigail in the centre of them all, dancing up a storm. He’s clearly done a fantastic job distracting her.

As soon as Abigail spots us, she runs towards Logan and lures him into the centre of attention too. He goes with her willingly, and the pair of them meet up with Buddy in the middle.

Karen can’t stop herself from laughing. It’s a giggly laugh that makes me think that she’s feeling as tipsy as I am. “They look like a couple dancing with their daughter,” she says.

I laugh out loud too, nodding my agreement. A few more people join them and as soon as Abby releases Logan’s hand he makes a beeline for me. I assume he’s coming to be a bystander once more, but he’s got other plans, taking my hand and pulling me onto the floor.

“I like dancing with you much more than I’ve ever let on,” he tells me.

I grin back at him as I slip effortlessly into his arms, and everyone in our vicinity disappears from my focus. I like being back in our bubble, though if tonight’s taught me anything it’s that we can’t always stay here. There will be things throughout our life together that knock us out of it, but I revel in knowing that we can always come back to it. It’s a choice, I think, one that I hope I’ll always continue to make.

“There’s something I want to ask you about our wedding,” Logan tells me.

“Alright,” I smile at him.

“I know there will be a lot of things to organise,” he says correctly, “but there’s something I want to organise by myself.”

Just one thing, I think. “I don’t want to do everything else alone.”

“No, no,” he shakes his head. “We can do everything together, there’s just one thing that I want to do without you, to surprise you,” he explains, before amending, “Two things. No, actually there’s three.”

I smile at him again as we continue to languidly dance. “And they are?” I wonder.

“Our wedding song,” he says, and it’s clear that our current movements are what reminded him to ask me, “our honeymoon, and the destination of the ceremony.”

Hmm…

“Well, obviously you’ll be choosing an N*Sync number for our first dance,” I tease, “and our honeymoon will most likely be an extended stay at Beaux Rêves,” I assume, “so because I already know those ones, you can have them,” I say with a laugh. “The destination of the ceremony ties into too many other things though. It’ll say on the invitations, so everyone else will know except for me.”

“Not necessarily. I’d just get everyone to meet at one location and then bus them to the actual ceremony site.”

“Oh…” That’s genius!

However, taking my response as resistance, Logan concedes, “OK, I’ll keep the song and the honeymoon a secret. Your guesses are nowhere near correct, baby,” he chuckles. “And I’ll let you in on the location…soon,” he teases me back.

“You have somewhere in mind, then?”

He nods. “Somewhere that I think you’ll love.”

“Intriguing,” I say, before my attention is drawn to Karen and Abigail dancing nearby and a sudden, strange sadness overcomes me as I wonder if Taylor will let his wife and daughter come to our wedding. That would be yet another way for him to try and punish Logan. Not to mention, it would probably break Mary-Gene’s and Rupert’s heart.

Unbeknownst to them, this evening has resulted in their sons disbanding, and because of that, a creeping seed of guilt floats into my mind once more. There’s no point in chiding myself by continually thinking I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I can’t change that now, but I can do something else. So, let’s look at this logically, Gem…if I had’ve kept my mouth shut earlier tonight, what then?

Well, Logan might not have disowned his brother, but the animosity between them would continue to grow, and fester, and spoil. I surprise myself when feelings of gratitude course through me that the events of this evening ended in the way they did, because I don’t want Logan to be part of a relationship that toxic, and I don’t have to feel guilty for playing any part in stopping it.

Good, I think, feeling a little more at ease now that I’ve come to this conclusion. But even though my spat with Taylor may now feel justified to me, how Logan’s parents are going to think about it is still a concern. I’ve been concerned for no reason once before though, I note, remembering the conversation that Logan and I had about me worrying his parents would think I’m a bad influence after his fight with Jerry. This memory distracts me momentarily…

“I never got to ask you what Jerry was doing here.”

“Apologising,” Logan says.

“What’s he done now?” I blurt out.

Logan grins at my assumption. “He was apologising for ambushing you at work. I think he wanted to clear the air in case I ever decided to reciprocate the gesture. I told him I’d pass his sentiments along…so, sorry, from Jerry.”

Musing out loud, I tell him, “I never imagined I’d have the misfortune to dislike someone more than Jerry, but your brother is a big—”

We’re set upon by Abigail at that exact moment as she circles around legs and I just manage not to educate her in expletives.

“A big meanie,” I say instead, my choice of word making Logan laugh heartily. Once she’s circled us a few times, she disappears once more, and I finally ask Logan, “Uh, how do you think your parents will react about you disowning Taylor?”

“I doubt they’ll be surprised. It’s been a long time coming,” he says, matter-of-factly. “They know Tay’s an asshole, even if they can’t use those exact words.” Considering things a little more, he reveals, “They’ll be upset and disappointed, but for the most part I think they’ll be concerned about you.”

Oh, shit! “What about me?” I ask hurriedly. Are they going to blame me?

“I saw the looks on their faces when Taylor was harassing you — they were mortified by the things that he said; they looked so ashamed of him. I think they’re probably hiding somewhere,” he throws a quick glance around us, “feeling incredibly embarrassed, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve spent the last forty minutes profusely apologising to your mom on Taylor’s behalf.”

So I’m concerned about them, and Logan presumes that they’re concerned about me. This is all still Taylor’s influence, I think, irritatedly; we shouldn’t be giving him the satisfaction! I feel an abrupt burning desire to do something to end his hold over our evening. Take back the night, I think dramatically.

“We should tell our parents,” I say, making the decision out of the blue.

“Tell them what?”

“That we’re getting married,” I smile at him, getting giddy at the thought. “If anything will put a smile on MG’s face, it’s that.”

Logan beams back at me. “You might want to brace yourself for more than a smile,” he warns me. “What about your mom? Have you had enough time to talk to her like you wanted to?”

I reach up on my tiptoes until my lips are less than an inch from Logan’s. “Sometimes you just gotta bite the bullet,” I whisper.

I can’t say with certainty if it’s my fuck-you-Taylor attitude, or the increased level of alcohol running through my system, or my unwavering confidence in our relationship that has made me so gung-ho about sharing our news, but whatever the reason I’m convinced that now is the right time — it will change the mood of the evening for the better. I hope.