“Oh, God, you actuallyread it,” I croaked, flattening a hand to my chest. I turned away to face thewall, to look anywhere but at him and the book in his hand. “Oh, my God, I’mso, so sorry.”
“Why the hell are youapologizing?” He sounded flabbergasted and I chanced a peek over my shoulder.His head was tipped to one side, eyes warm and inviting. “Why would youapologize forthis?”
“Because I took your …horribly sad story, and turned it into—”
“A love letter,” hefinished.
Facing him once again,I asked, “Wait. You actuallylikedit?”
He held the bookbetween two hands and smiled down at the cover I had so painstakingly designed.A smile crept over his lips as he nodded. “I might even say it’s my favoritebook ever. I mean, I wouldn’t necessarily read it to the girls, because some ofthese scenes are …” He released a low whistle and I laughed, the heat rising tomy cheeks. “But I meant it when I said you’re very talented, Tess, and I’m gladyou did this. Honestly, it’s perfect.”
“Thank you,” I replied softly,suddenly unable to meet his eye. “So, you came all the way here to tell methis.”
“Yes. And one otherthing.”
“Okay,” I nodded.“What’s that?”
“I love you more,” hereplied steadily, assuredly, and I didn’t bother asking what he meant by that.I already knew, and my lips fell open to protest. To tell himhowitwasn’tnecessary, that he didn’t have to make such grand claims, but he wouldn’t letme speak. Instead, he continued, “Iwas scared ofallowing myself to be happy, and I don’t know exactly why. Maybe it was becauseI wasafraidI’d fail someone else. Maybe I thoughtit’d be too selfish of me to move on completely. Maybe, deep down, there was stilla part of me that felt guilty for loving you. Hell, maybe it wasall ofthe above, I don’t know. But I used this,” he liftedthe book to my eyes, “as an excuse to let go, and that wasprettystupidof me. I should’ve been flattered, and instead I acted like atotal asshole, and I’m—what?”
I bit back my giggle asI shook my head. “I’m just not used to hearing you curse. It’s weird.”
“Well, get ready,because I’m about to blow your mind.”
Jon dropped the bookinto the recliner and stepped toward me, prying my fingers from the strings ofmy sweatshirt and grasping my hands between his. “Tess, Ifuckinglove you, and there is nothing that’ll make me happier than you coming toConnecticut with us.”
If I had allowed it, mysmile would’ve overtaken my entire face. “Are you seriously asking me to movein with you?”
Nodding solemnly, hereleased one of my hands to cup my cheek in his palm. “I’m asking you to startover with me.”
And there it was. Thewistful sighmoment. The moment in whicheverybody grasps at their chests in fear that their hearts might burst from theimpact. The moment where the broken hero realizes that he’d been put backtogether long ago by the whimsical heroine.
But there were notears, like I thought there’d be. There was no immediate desire to launchmyself into his arms and wrap my legs around his waist. Because this was real life,and while sometimes there is a happily ever after, we don’t always react theway we think we might in the moment.
Instead, I laid my palmover his hand, in fear that if I let go, he might fade away, and replied, “Iaccept, but only on one condition.”
“Anything,” he agreedeagerly, searching my eyes with sincerity, just like a real Prince Charming.
And just like anawkward heroine, I stood on my toes, brought my lips within centimeters of his,and whispered, “The cat comes, too.”
EPILOGUE
JON
“The place is beautiful, Jonathan,” Charles,my former father-in-law, complimented, as he swept an approving gaze over thetownhouse living room.
His eyes fell on thecollage of framed photographs hanging above the couch. There was one of Tessand the girls. Another of all five of us at Jeff’s second marriage ceremony tohis first and only wife. There was one of each of the girls, and one of Tessand me on the day I proposed. And in the center of them all, was a picture ofBeth and our daughters. I might’ve moved on from the past, but I could neverlet it go. There would always be a place in my heart for my first love, and shewould always be the mother of my girls.
Charles nodded towardthe wall and said, “My daughter was lucky to have you, you know.”
“I know,” I replied,dipping my head and lowering my eyes to the carpet. “I was pretty lucky to haveher, too.”
“We all were,” he addedsolemnly.
A chorus of cheerfulgiggles floated down from upstairs and my gaze rose to the ceiling. Tess wasspending the day helping the girls decorate each of their rooms with adhesiveflowers, hearts, and butterflies. After renting for so many years, they werefinally able to personalize their own space, and they were having a great timedoing it.
“You guys settling inall right?” Charles asked, and I met his eye with a nod.
“It’s been great,” Ireplied, reflecting on the weeks since moving to River Canyon. “It’s such asmall town, so we’ve been making friends pretty fast. Lots of kids are thegirls’ ages, too.”
