"How did this happen?" I ask my friends.

"Your mom found out about your engagement and threw this party." Camryn says.

"And how did she find out? I certainly didn't tell her and the government registration letter couldn't have gotten here that fast." I say.

"Sorry!" Mandy throws up her hands in surrender, "I told my sister who told my parents who then called your parents."

It's a shock yet not a shock at the same time. Mandy and her younger sister, Brenda, aren't really close. Somehow though the two sisters always seem to share the most important, and inconvenient, things with each other. Brenda, unlike Mandy, is close with their parents so anything that gets told to her is immediately relayed to her parents.

"It's not your fault. If my dinner hadn't gone so badly I might have wanted this party." I say.

"What happened to make it so bad?" Mandy asks.

I tell them about my irrational and unquenchable anger at the sight of Charles Milburn II. I don't tell them about the time traveller. It doesn't seem like a necessary part of the story. Anyway I don't think they'll believe it if I tell them.

"Then it's true. There is a thin line between love and hate." Camryn says.

"What are you going to do?" Mandy asks.

"I don't know." I say, letting pure honesty show through.

Just then my mom brings out a cake. How did she throw all this together on such short notice? The cake has one candle in the center and my mother asks me to blow it out. I argue that it's not my birthday but my mom quickly replies that this day marks the birth of a healthy marriage. I suppress a laugh. It definitely hasn't been healthy so far.

My mom continues to stare at me, smiling, from the center of the room. She's unwavering when she wants to be and I often end giving in to her. Today is no different as I plaster a smile back on my face and walk toward her.

The furniture in the living room has been rearranged for the party. I wasn't here when they did it so I'm not aware of where everything has been moved to. There's a large open space in the center of the room where mom is standing with the cake. I make my way toward her.

Before I can make it to blow out my engagement candle, however, something takes my legs out from under me. It's a stool, a tiny little thing that normally resides at the foot of my dad's recliner. Now it's under my feet tripping me.

"Are you ok?" My cousin Sylvia asks. My uncle Allen grabs my arm and pulls me to standing.

"I'm ok." I say, straightening out my dress.

"You gotta watch where you're walking." Uncle Allen says.

Eventually I make it to the center of the room and blow out the candle. Claps and cheers come from around the room. For the next few hours I'm the center of attention. I have to field questions about who my fiance is and what he does for a living. Great Aunt Marigold squeals with joy when she hears that he's a lawyer. My cheeks start to burn I'm smiling so hard. Throughout the night I keep thinking that the time traveler was right. I was blindsided by this party. I'm currently pretending to be happy. And, that stool proved I need to look down when I walk.

The party is all but over when I escape to my room and plop face down onto the bed. Most everyone has left. Camryn and Mandy snuck out first, the cowards, and my family members trickled out after that. Currently my mom is stuck in a goodbye cycle with the neighbor Mrs. Burns. They say goodbye to each other, move three feet closer to the door, and then get sucked into another conversation about a piece of gossip Mrs. Burns heard or a news article mom read in the day's paper. So far they have made it to the front porch. I expect it to be at least fifteen more minutes before they say goodbye for real. 

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I expect it's Mandy or Camryn apologizing again for letting this happen, even though they had no control over it. The text is actually from an unknown number. Unknown to my phone, that is. The number is slightly known to me. I flip open the folder to  make sure and, sure enough, the number is listed in my marriage documentation under contact info for the bridegroom. 

For some reason I'm nervous as I tap the message icon. I'm sorry about this afternoon the message says. 

I'm sorry too I reply. 

I didn't mean those things I said. Well some of them I meant but I didn't mean for them to come out the way they did. His messages come slowly. I don't think he's good with typing.

Nothing you said was bad. I think I just perceived it badly. 

I really wanted things to go well. I've always wanted to get engaged. I'm not great with people in person so I always hoped that my destined partner would understand me implicitly. But in the end I only said the wrong things tonight and made you uncomfortable. 

It wasn't just you. I noticed myself saying things that I normally would never say. I acted stangely and I have a fridge full of baked potatoes to prove it.

😂😂 Charles texts back only emojis. It's surprising but kind of cute.

We text like this until I fall asleep. The next morning I wake up still in yesterday's dress with mascara caked onto my eyelashes. I groan as I remember that I swapped classes with Renada and I'm scheduled to teach early morning cycling today. I get ready as fast as I can and race out of the door. 

Word of  advice, a two mile jog immediately before teaching a cycling class is a fine workout but only if you've planned for it in advance. Doing it in the spur of the moment has left my legs dead. I'm supposed to be wiping down the machines after the class but I'm just too tired. I place the sanitizing spray and wipes in the front of the room and kindly ask the attendees to clean their own bikes. Everyone cleans without argument probably because I'm sprawled on the floor like a crazy person.

"You ok?" A voice at the end of an arm that's reaching down toward me asks. It's Arnold, another instructor. All 6'7" of him is looming over me. I grab his hand and let him pull me to standing.

"I didn't stretch before exercising." I say, compressing the story and changing some of the details but allowing the moral of the story to stay the same. You should always prepare yourself before exercising.

"You should come to my class then." Arnold says. He bends down until he's folded completely in half. Arnold teaches yoga. It's weird to see a man of his stature folding like a pretzel. I once asked him how he got in to yoga. He told me that he has been six feet tall since the eighth grade and his 6'5" father told him that if men their size didn't learn to bend, they would become brittle and break. Arnold's sure his dad was speaking metaphorically about the way people think and form opinions, but he took it literally. He bought a yoga DVD that day and never looked back.

"What time does your class start?" I ask.

"In ten minutes." He says, checking an imaginary watch on his wrist. My legs hurt now but I know they'll be even more stiff tomorrow if I don't stretch.

"Sure, let's go." I follow him out of the room, looking like a little sister chasing after her big brother. I'm not really short. I am a solid 5'5" tall. But we all look short next to Arnold. 

"By the way, congratulations on your engagement." I stop walking as Arnold says this. I was already a good bit behind him because one of his steps is like five of mine, but he still notices when I stop walking. 

"How could you possibly know about that?" All of a sudden I'm paranoid that the time traveler has gotten to Arnold. I look over my shoulder to make sure no one is there.

"Your mom came by while you were in class and gave out cookies." He pulls out a baggie with a cookie in it. The word ENGAGED is written across the cookie in blue icing. 

"Ugh I thought retired people were supposed to stay at home." I say, thinking I'm saying it to myself under my breath. But, Arnold definitely hears it and fails to suppress a laugh. 

"So your mom retired from  the high school?" 

"Yes. She said the students were making her gums bleed." I start walking again and Arnold waits until I catch up.

"Teenagers will do that to you. I'm engaged too you know." He says calmly.

"You are?" I scream this question. 

"Yeah we met last week." He says with a sly smile.

"Congratulations. How was it?"

"Good except..."

"Except what?" I'm far too curious about what his answer will be. Perhaps he and his fiance had unwarranted arguments as well. Maybe everything his fiance said sounded like an insult to him too. 

"She's 4 foot 11." I choke on my own saliva when I hear this, coughing like I've smoked a pack a day for twenty years. Arnold gives my a hardy pat on the back. 

"You'll crush her." I say in between coughs.

"Thanks for that vote of confidence." Arnold says as we reach the door to the yoga studio. 

I'm not as flexible as I used to be and I wasn't very flexible to begin with. When Arnold tells us to go into downward facing dog, my bones crack as I move. Arnold's fluidity is a stark contrast to my robotic moves. When the class ends my muscles are still sore but it's the good kind of sore. I clean off my yoga mat an roll it up like all the other girls in class. It's now that I realize that the class is only women. Arnold's class is full every week and he's the only man I've ever seen enter it. 

Arnold walks over to me after he puts his own mat up and I see a few of the other attendees side-eyeing us. I'm pretty sure at least one woman leans in closer to us. 

"We should double. My fiance likes to go out but I don't have any engaged friends." Arnold says. An audible grown comes up from the class attendees. Apparently they had more interest in Arnold than for his flexibility. Or perhaps his flexibility is exactly what they were interested in. 

Arnold watches me with a raised eyebrow. Obviously he's waiting for my answer. I don't want to say yes. Charles and I have only met once and during that meeting I thought about hurting him more than once. And more times than that I thought about him hurting me and I wanted to protect myself.  Subjecting a happy couple to experiencing our absurdity seems wrong. Refusing the double date is also something I don't want to do. It feels like I'm giving in to the belief that my engagement is doomed. If I'm going to do that I might as well just do whatever the time traveler tells me to do. No, I can't give in like that. The time traveler may have predicted last night correctly and that may have proven he's from the future, but that doesn't mean the things he says will come true. The future can be changed. I just need to find out exactly what that future is first. 

"Uh yeah maybe. I will ask my fiance. He has a hectic work schedule." I finally answer.

"Mine does too! What does your fiance do?" Arnold asks. I have already started heading toward the front doors to find the time traveler but Arnold has no trouble keeping up with me. In fact he has to slow down to keep from surpassing me.

"He's a lawyer." I say as I place my classroom key on the front desk.

"No way! So is mine! What a coincidence!" It is a coincidence. It's one I would like to explore further except through the glass front doors of the gym I see him, Charles Milburn II.