Evander had his doubts about this.
But then, Evander Darrow had his doubts about almost everything. In fact, he thought he would have felt far worse standing here today at the front of a church with no doubts whatsoever about what he was undertaking, because then he would known he was out of his mind.
And his doubts were mostly the old doubts, had been refined and fermented, preserved and parcelled away to be kept just like the list he’d made of them. (He was too old for this; she was too young; too outgoing; too American; too much out of his league; and he was not made for marriage anyway. The positives were not so easily expressed as those, but he had been practical about those too and they had outweighed the fears, that was why he was here.) He was aware of the doubts in the back of his mind - was content enough to let them live there - and besides, Evander had committed to this anyway. That had to mean something.
The new doubts, meanwhile, were very much regarding the wedding night and the travelling and the rest of the honeymoon and the wildly different course of the rest of his life, but he was resolutely not thinking about any of that until he had at least managed to survive the reception. Conservation of vital mental energy, that was all. Best shut down the system now before it buckled under the pressure. Keep on topic.
So he - felt a little blank, really, like his brain was a vast shapeless wasteland and like he was not currently in possession of his own limbs - he flexed his fingers and couldn’t feel them - and everything was so deadened and calm in him that he almost began to feel good; panic just felt too out of place. (Evander imagined this sort of floating sensation was perhaps why people became opium addicts.)
And then there Caroline was, gliding in, a vision in white, and Evander was so slow to absorb even the sight of her that she had reached him before he had even found a single word to adequately describe her. He smiled back at her almost in spite of himself, at finding her touch for once less steady than his; he let out a breath and a burst of feeling came back in with the next inhale. But the ceremony was the straightforward bit and there was nothing for Caroline to be worried about here, there was nothing that could go wrong, he was not even thinking about things going wrong here, and - the first feeling in him was perhaps not nervousness at all. He covered her hand with his for a moment, quite unconscious of their audience to this, and caught himself, as he turned forwards, almost smiling again.
But then, Evander Darrow had his doubts about almost everything. In fact, he thought he would have felt far worse standing here today at the front of a church with no doubts whatsoever about what he was undertaking, because then he would known he was out of his mind.
And his doubts were mostly the old doubts, had been refined and fermented, preserved and parcelled away to be kept just like the list he’d made of them. (He was too old for this; she was too young; too outgoing; too American; too much out of his league; and he was not made for marriage anyway. The positives were not so easily expressed as those, but he had been practical about those too and they had outweighed the fears, that was why he was here.) He was aware of the doubts in the back of his mind - was content enough to let them live there - and besides, Evander had committed to this anyway. That had to mean something.
The new doubts, meanwhile, were very much regarding the wedding night and the travelling and the rest of the honeymoon and the wildly different course of the rest of his life, but he was resolutely not thinking about any of that until he had at least managed to survive the reception. Conservation of vital mental energy, that was all. Best shut down the system now before it buckled under the pressure. Keep on topic.
So he - felt a little blank, really, like his brain was a vast shapeless wasteland and like he was not currently in possession of his own limbs - he flexed his fingers and couldn’t feel them - and everything was so deadened and calm in him that he almost began to feel good; panic just felt too out of place. (Evander imagined this sort of floating sensation was perhaps why people became opium addicts.)
And then there Caroline was, gliding in, a vision in white, and Evander was so slow to absorb even the sight of her that she had reached him before he had even found a single word to adequately describe her. He smiled back at her almost in spite of himself, at finding her touch for once less steady than his; he let out a breath and a burst of feeling came back in with the next inhale. But the ceremony was the straightforward bit and there was nothing for Caroline to be worried about here, there was nothing that could go wrong, he was not even thinking about things going wrong here, and - the first feeling in him was perhaps not nervousness at all. He covered her hand with his for a moment, quite unconscious of their audience to this, and caught himself, as he turned forwards, almost smiling again.
