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Dinner was a quiet affair. Ruth gave a pointed look across the table to Lily and James, who was keeping a firm eye on Petunia. The small talk that was made was quiet and trailed off without sparking anything more than a sentence for an answer.
Even after the eldest Evans sister left to go home to get changed for the festivities, the mood remained cool. James was the first to go upstairs to get ready, giving him enough time to shower and shave while also giving Ruth a moment alone with her daughter.
“You should tell him tonight, Lilykins.”
Both Lily and Jon looked up from the dishes they were doing and then at each other.
“Tell him what?”
She dreaded the answer. She’d rather not harken back to her little confession from that afternoon, especially not with her father there too.
“That you love him.”
And there it was. Hearing her mother say it nearly made Lily drop her plate and shake her head vehemently. There was no way that she could tell him that, but it wasn’t like she could tell her parents that. Not without revealing the little act they’d been keeping up.
“I don’t think it’s the right time.”
Her father placed down the pot he’d been scrubbing to look at her in a way only he really could. That look that went straight through her.
“Nonsense! New Year’s is the perfect time for confessions like that,” her mother pressed, and while Lily wasn’t sure why she was meddling, she’d rather avoid more conflict. Tonight was supposed to be about family and loved ones being together. Celebrating. Not having a row over something like this.
“I’ll see if I can work up the courage after a few drinks.”
A compromise and not a lie. Hopefully, it would be enough for both of them. Ruth seemed satisfied enough. Jon, on the other hand, was about to say something when the familiar sound of the bathroom door opening saved her. Thank Merlin.
With just a closed-lip smile she scurried off to get herself ready. She took her time doing her hair, styling it in auburn waves that fell strategically over her shoulder, one side pinned to the side with a large satin poinsettia that accented the deep purple chiffon of her dress.
She was still fumbling with the sequinned cuffs of her sheer bishop sleeves as she descended the stairs, almost stumbling into James, who was standing at the foot. His hand came up on her waist, stopping her from stepping down and onto his foot.
“Steady there, Lils.”
Lily’s eyes lifted, meeting James and for just a moment, she was breathless. Lost in the glittering golden pools of his eyes. Her hand reached out to run along the satin lapel of his jacket.
“You clean up nicely.”
His lips curved into a smile as his eyes drank her in before letting his head dip forward a little, hiding the grin she’d glimpsed for just a fraction of a moment.
“I’d say the same to you, but it would be a criminal understatement. You look breathtaking, Evans.”
How could she not blush at that? His hand trailing down to her hip did nothing to help the blizzard of butterflies that flurried inside of her.
“Well, I was going to wear green, but it felt borderline criminal to make my fearless lion wear such a traitorous colour,” Lily joked, trailing her fingers along his bow tie and watching it turn the same shade of purple as her dress. Her fingers lingered on the knot, moving to adjust it. Just to have an excuse to stay close for a little moment longer.
She had to tell him, or she might just burst.
“James, I -”
Before her sentence ever began, her parents burst into the hallway, chatting excitedly. Ready to go.
“Oh! Would you look at you two? You’re such a handsome couple,” Ruth exclaimed, hands already fumbling for the camera. She held it up victoriously when she wrestled it out of her purse. She motioned them together and snapped at least three photos of them on the stairs before nodding, satisfied.
Then, she hurried them out of the house since they were running a little later than she’d hoped. Which made them on time rather than unreasonably early.
The night went by far too fast, despite Matthew trying to ‘borrow’ or ‘steal’ Lily on five different occasions—Four of those gracefully averted by James and a display of impeccable manners she’d teased him about for at least two dances. And once by her father, who guided her to the refreshments.
“You know, when your mother said that you were bringing a boy, I thought you were fibbing,” Jon remarked, looking at her inquisitively, handing her a cup of fruit punch. Guilt stirred in her gut. If possible, she would rather not lie to her father. He was not insistent, like her mother. He would never have dreamt of saying yes to Matthew on her behalf.
An apologetic smile crossed her features, and she took a long drink from the fruity mixture. She could barely taste the two bottles of alcohol that had gone into it. Which was dangerous, but very welcome.
“Frankly, I am still on the fence about this relationship. But I can certainly see that poor Matthew does not stand a chance.”
The redhead couldn’t help but roll her eyes when her father called the pastor’s nephew poor. He was anything but.
“Poor Matthew, my arse,” Lily mumbled under her breath, taking another drink before refilling her cup and leaning against the table with her hip. “James and I are good friends, I think. But…”
Swallowing the lump in her throat, her eyes found James across the floor dancing with her mother for the mother and son dance.
“I think I missed my chance with this one.”
Much to her surprise, her father laughed. Snorted even. Almost reflexively, her hand went to her hip, lips pursing.
“Lilypad, there is no way you missed your chance. Not with the way he looks at you.”
She pondered his words for a moment. Maybe he was right, and this trip had not just been some New Year’s magic, as her mother had called it. It made sense, which was what threw her off. James had a habit of confusing her, twisting her expectations. Sense was not something she often associated with being around him.
Still, the mere thought of a chance had her eyes lighting up with giddy excitement. Once again, she looked over, giving her head an affectionate shake as they both watched him spin her mother. The show-off.
“It’s almost midnight. Go tell him.”
That was all it took for Lily. Pulling her father into a hug, she pressed a kiss to his cheek before making her way across the dance floor. All she needed to do was manage to capture his attention before this buzz, this newly found determination, wore off.
The song came to a close and, like clockwork, James’ eyes sought hers. He grinned as he found her just a few steps away from him, already waiting.
Before that rush ended, before the few precious minutes they had left in the year ticked by, Lily went for it. The moment he was within earshot, she blurted out.
“We need to talk.”
His expression instantly went guarded, tentatively taking the hand she extended him. He allowed her to lead him through a door into an actual chapel rather than the modern annexe.
“I don’t really know how to say this,” Lily admitted with a nervous chuckle, her eyes glued on their hands, and laced her fingers through his. “Just- I wanted to, uhm. Thank you for playing along.”
She slapped herself mentally, having to grip his hand tighter when James tried to pull away. And she couldn’t even blame him. If he’d said something like that, she’d have done a lot worse.
“Lils, you don’t need to thank me.”
“Yes, I do. Now, shut up and let me talk!”
Her eyes finally met his with fierce determination.
“In the Muggle world, we have the habit of making New Year's resolutions. They’re like to-do lists, and most of those things are wishes rather than things we actually end up accomplishing. Like—Like, lose weight or learn a new skill, stop drinking.”
Lily knew she was rambling, but this was the only way she could find her way to the words she needed to say.
“But mine is not something I can do alone. Frankly, it isn’t even up to me. Not really. See, the thing I want for the new year is for this to be real.”
Her eyes burned into his, trying to see if the words had landed as she squeezed his hand. Already bracing for the rejection as she watched the penny drop. He was silent for a long time.
“Lily-”
There it was, the gentle letdown, and fitting that she could hear the people in the other room start the countdown.
10
9
Deep breath in.
8
“Do you mean that?”
6
Nod.
5
“It was never fake to me.”
1