All the peace I had found the night before had managed to linger the morning after, but as the hours of the day slid closer to the dinner, I could feel ripples of anxiety moving through my body. It didn’t help that Roman was taking some work calls in his study for most of that Saturday, so I was left alone with my thoughts.

In hopes of finding any sort of way to pass the time, I headed to my crafting room and began searching through the supplies again. Pottery was only going to frustrate me, knowing good and well I was still tormented over something I enjoyed doing just wasn’t fulfilling. I needed something else to distract me. Something new, something I could get into with no guide so I could get completely enveloped in the task.

I felt that same sort of awkward embarrassment as I looked down at the paint supplies I had pulled out. I knew that anything I created would look childish and poor. There was no better place to start, though. I knew that I had to just try to even see if I enjoyed it. Besides, I had already made quite a mess when rifling through things and I didn’t want to add to it.

Once I set up all the supplies, I just dove in. Choosing a wide, flat brush, I smeared a deep blue paint over a canvas. Immediately, I didn’t quite like the way it looked.

Maybe I just needed to learn how to turn off my brain; though that felt like an impossible task. Little stinging thoughts about my dad and my brothers came to mind with every disappointing stroke.

I attacked it with more vigor, brushing over the layers of paint with various shades of blue and green. Soon, I was staring at a canvas that looked to me like a splatter of color. The longer I looked at it, trying to figure out what it could possibly be, I supposed I could see it as an enraged sea. That finally gave me an idea.

Taking a heat gun I had found in the supplies, I dried the paint due to my own impatience. Once it was dry enough, I took a marker and began sketching out a koi fish. I wasn’t sure why I chose that fish, but it felt like a good contrast to the angry waves. Once the outline was on, I took black paint and traced over it before adding in splashes of orange to the scales. Finally, I was getting a bit lost in the task, my mind slipping away from the painful anticipation for the dinner. I was adding white details to the water when I heard footsteps coming into the room.

"I see you’re getting use out of the craft room," Roman stated as he neared.

"Nothing else to do," I mused as I continued to paint.

His hand fell to the small of my back. "That looks good," he complimented as he watched me.

"It doesn’t, but thank you," I smiled weakly up at him.

I knew it wasn’t a good painting. It wasn’t something that could be sold even at a flea market. However, it had been good as a way to get out my emotions. However, it was still nice to hear a little external encouragement.

I felt him move away and before long, he chimed in. "Did you make this?"

I turned then to see him standing at the table which held the piece I had made with the shells. The two lovers with a wreath. I slowly nodded. "Yeah, I did. Wasn’t sure if I liked it."

He furrowed his brows as he locked gazes with me before back down at the sculpture. "I think it’s genuinely beautiful," he stated, his fingers delicately tracing the faces. "I mean, it looks like something someone would buy at a gallery or something."

"You don’t need to flatter me, Roman. We’re already married," I joked lightly.

"I’m serious," he urged. "I would buy that. We should put it somewhere. Maybe in our bedroom."

I turned back to the canvas without responding. I was honored he wanted to put it somewhere, but I felt a bit shy about it. The plates and bowls had been one thing, as it had been a piece of art with utility; that one had been one I worked on for days to try and really put a great deal of effort into. In a way, it felt like my first piece of real art.

He tugged at my hips and turned me around to face him. "I love that sculpture. I love the way you used the shells. It’s perfect."

The look in his eye let me know that he wasn’t going to move or look away without agreeing with him, or at least take the compliment. Letting out a little sigh, I smiled at him. "Thank you. It really does mean a lot. I’m just shy about it, is all."

"It’s cute," he replied, giving me a light kiss. He rubbed my arms and the reflection in his eye shifted a bit. "We should probably start getting ready for dinner."

I nodded but felt the anxiety burning in the center of my chest. It was going to be like a band-aid, wasn’t it? It was always going to hurt at first, but the only way to get it over with was just to do it. I just had to get it over with and find out so that the anxiety would leave me. Some small part of me worried that it wouldn’t, that maybe it had tapped into this well of feelings that would be hard to shut off.

As we walked out of the room, I glanced over my shoulder back at the painting. I heard a little voice in the back of my head tell me I was the koi fish. Fragile, small, and caught in an ever changing, violent current.

Thankfully, it seemed as though Roman picked up on the fact I was in a bit of a mood. When we got to our room to get ready, he cut on some upbeat music. It was a welcome way to drown out some of my circling thoughts. Walking into the closet, I decided not to fret over my choices in clothes and grabbed one of the first dresses I saw, a long-sleeved maroon sweater dress. I paired it with a pair of gray tights and some boots.

I then allowed myself to labor over the task of styling my hair and putting on some makeup. Another little persistent voice tried to tell me I was putting in all that effort because it’s what my father used to expect of me. I shook my head and took a breath. No, I was doing this for me. I needed to feel confident and comfortable in my own skin. The best way I knew to do that was to execute the little bit of control I had, and that was with my appearance.

When I walked out of the restroom, I walked in to see Roman looking as handsome as ever in a gray suit and black dress shirt. He was stunning, and in such an effortless way.

"You’re enough to take someone’s breath away," I called to him as I paced over to him.

He grabbed my hands and swayed with me to the beat of the song. "Yet I pale in comparison to someone like you," he purred.

We danced for the duration of the song. I was completely in love with the way he always took notice of my emotions and put things to action in a way to help, rather than trying to just talk about it. It seemed to be unspoken that he knew I would talk about it if I wanted to, and he wouldn’t pressure me to do so. I didn’t want to talk about it. It would only serve to make me even more anxious than I already was.

Once the song ended, he took me by the hand and guided me through the house.

It was just a dinner. I could get through it. As long as I had Roman by my side, I knew things were going to be okay. At least, as okay as they could be.

As we started the journey to their house, I turned the music up a little obnoxiously. I needed to not think about it, or else I would back out. Roman squeezed my thigh for comfort.

When we pulled up outside of the stunning modern home, I let out a breath and cut off the music. "Here goes nothing."

I was thankful to see Lori’s car already there. At least she would be a lovely buffer. Something told me there was a good chance that she would be playing the role of peacekeeper. May any God or high being be in her favor, I thought.

We got out and approached the door, rang the bell, and said a silent prayer.