Page 24 of The Pen Pal


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It’s not a perfect relationship, especially since I very much need to keep on working on my communication issues, but we both do our best every single day. So far, he hasn’t considered leaving. Then again, it’s not as if I’d let him.

There’s another knock at the door.

Adam’s up like a shot—way too fast for someone who’s just finished scarfing down chow mein and reorganizing the condiment packets by color. He doesn’t even say anything. Just practically teleports from his chair to the front door like Quiksilver.

Hmm. Weird and suspicious.

I lean forward, trying to peek past the stack of boxes between us, but all I hear is some muffled talking and the sound of tape being torn. Then the door clicks shut, and Adam reappears … holdinga massive rectangular object wrapped in cardboard and bubble wrap. There’s a giant red FRAGILE sticker around it.

My suspicion triples. “What is that?”

“Mirrors.” He wiggles his eyebrows and smiles. “With an s.”

My stomach flips. “No.”

His grin deepens. “Yes.”

I’m already up from the table and half-running toward him. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“You absolute perfect man.”

The mirrors thunk softly as he props them against the wall, but I barely glance at them. I’m too busy wrapping my arms around his neck and peppering his face with kisses.

He cradles my cheek with his hand and kisses me softly. “I love you, Amelia.”

My heart is so full, I feel like I can’t breathe. “I love you, Adam.”

“Now you need to make a new list. Something that would actually make me sweat.”

“Challenge accepted.”

EXTENDED EPILOGUE

ADAM

She’s bouncing.

Not literally, but close. Amelia’s got this energy she tries to contain, but it crackles off her like static, even when she’s sitting in a cushioned, reclining business class seat. Her head turns from the window to the cabin to the window again. It’s as if she’s afraid she’ll miss something monumental if she blinks too long.

She touches my forearm, her voice a hushed rush. “Adam, I’m in a plane about to leave the country. This is happening.Like really, really happening. Pinch me, please.”

I pinch her cheeks twice and kiss her on the mouth. “Pinch, pinch.”

“I’m about to breathe a different kind of air.”

I grin, my heart squeezing as I watch the way her eyes shine. “Baby, we haven’t even taken off yet.”

She waves her hand like I’m being ridiculous. “Semantics.”

Her fingers are laced through mine, and I give them a light squeeze. “Is this really your first time abroad?”

She nods. “First time on a plane longer than five hours, first time in business class, first time out of the country.” She grins. “And first time traveling with someone who packs his socks vertically like a psychopath and color-matches them to his shirts. Let’s not even talk about the toiletries in similar bottles.”

“That’s called efficiency.See, I wanted to one-bag, but you’re here, so that makes it impossible.”

“It’s called criminal behavior.”