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Looking intently into her eyes, I say firmly, “I’m going to make this work. I promise you I’ll prove to you that I’m serious and committed to you and Alissa.”
My hand immediately goes to my jacket pocket, where I feel the small weight of the velvet box, but I immediately pull back, knowing now isn’t the right time.
I gently kiss her goodbye, whispering in her ear, “I love you, Emily Mitchell.”
As she leans into me, I feel like I’d do anything for her and Alissa.
I head out to the car I called to take me back home. On the way back, I can't shake the weight of Emily's words and her doubts about my ability to be there for them.
Determination surges through me, fueled by my resolve to prove to her just how serious I am about our future together.
Chapter Twenty
EMILY
“Okay, open wide!”
Alissa opens her mouth and closes it once I place the french fries dipped in ketchup in her mouth.
“Want some of mine too, Ali?” Dad asks as she’s still chewing, and the little glutton eagerly nods yes.
Dad brought us to Alissa’s favorite burger place to celebrate her progress with the school therapist.
Miss Olson told us about her significant growth and emphasized the importance of continuing to support her emotional journey. She recommended having open dialog with Alissa about her feelings around Andrew and to encourage validation and understanding.
Alissa and I have been having conversations a few times a week about Andrew. She seems to be accepting that as my boyfriend, I am getting to know him better to make sure he will be there for us. I explained to her that it’s a process that I’m figuring out a day at a time.
“Oh!” my phone rings. “Guess who it is, Ali?”
“Andrew?” Alissa stands up in her seat in expectation.
I hold the phone in front of me, ready to answer the video call.
“Hey, babe!” Andrew says cheerfully. “Are you with Ali?”
“Let me hand the phone to her,” I say with a smile and Ali grabs it with greedy hands.
“Hi, Andrew, guess what? We’re having burgers and milkshakes!” Alissa says, all in one breath.
“How nice, Ali!” I hear him speaking again, all through the noise around us in the restaurant. “Just you and mom?”
“Grandpa is here too!” and she points the phone to dad, flipping the camera and everything.
“Hello, Andrew,” Dad says. “How’s the tough routine?”
“Demanding,” Andrew replies.
Judging by the tiles behind him, he’s in a bathroom stall, likely the one place where he can have some privacy from the team.
He continues, “It's crunch time. We're grinding through these last few games, trying to secure our spot in the playoffs. Every game counts now, so it's all about staying focused and bringing our A-game. Just a couple more wins and we'll be in a good position for the playoffs. It's always extra intense at this point.”
“When will you come back?” Alissa returns the camera to herself and elongates the vowels, desperate for an answer.
“Not this Sunday, but the next!”
Alissa cheers, and my heart melts when that manly man chuckles at the sight. “Protect your mom for me until I get there, okay?”
“Okay!” She reaches out with an arm to hug me.
