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Wes sighs again, like it’s the only thing he can do, because his heart is so heavy, and awkwardness eats up every inch of the room. It’s hard to tell someone who you love that you’re not in love with them—at least not in the way they want you to love them. If I’m being honest, I’m not really sure I ever loved Wes as anything more than a friend, and that makes me a horribly selfish person. It’s so hard to push away such a nice guy, but I know he deserves better than what I’ve been giving him in this marriage. He deserves to be loved in a way that I’m not capable of.
The moment Wes steps around the side of the bed and grabs the handle of the suitcase, he glances back at me as if to give me one more chance to stop him from walking out my door and changing the dynamic between us forever, but I remain still as stone in my seat.
My lips pull in a tight line, and the skin on the bridge of my nose pinches together as I wrinkle my face and refuse to allow any emotion to escape and expose how torn up I am. Wes frowns when he realizes that I’m not going to beg him to stay, and he picks up the bag and walks out of the room.
The moment the front door closes, I release the sob I kept stuffed down in my chest. Instantly I know the security bubble that Wes created for me, the one that masked all the pain I’ve been dealing with for the past five years, is gone for good.
THEN
JARED
The wind whips through my hair as I drive down Main Street at one in the morning. I stick my hand out the open window, allowing the cool night air to flow through my fingers. Things couldn’t be more perfect. Everything in my life is lining up, and it feels amazing.
Most people say I live a blessed life, and I can’t argue otherwise. I’m starting pitcher at the University of Tennessee in my hometown of Knoxville, I have a damn near perfect family, and most importantly, the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen belongs to me. When you consider my personal life, and add in the fact that my team has just won their fourth straight game and the pro scouts are swarming around me like crazy, I don’t think a luckier man has ever walked this earth. I’ve got everything going for me.
I glance down at London, who is curled up on the bench seat next to me in the truck. Her pouty pink lips are partially open, and her eyelids are closed over her green eyes. Soft brown curls cascade around me, tickling my arm as she rests her head on my shoulder. The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest tells me that she’s fast asleep. I love that she’s so comfortable with me, knowing that I’ll always be there, protecting her, just like I have been since we were kids. The fruity scent of her shampoo mixed with her perfume comforts me as I drive us home. London has been the one constant in my life since she saw me and my brother playing ball in the middle of the street and demanded that we let her play. Even though we were only in middle school, it didn’t take long for me to fall in love with the cute brunette girl who loved baseball as much as me. Next to London, the only other people that matter to me are my mom and dad, along with my brother, Wes. Those four mean everything to me.
I turn into the subdivision that London and I grew up in. It’s nothing extravagant. Older, split-level homes built in the early eighties line the streets, and the moment I turn down our street, a warm feeling of ease comes over me. This place—this town—fits us, and the thought of leaving here when I turn pro scares me a bit, but I know it’s a place that I can always come back to. Besides, I’m sure anywhere with London will feel like home.
I pull up in front of London’s little brown house, throw the transmission into park, and nudge her. “Wake up, sleepy. You’re home.”
She rolls her shoulders and stretches before snaking her arms around my neck, pressing her body against me. “I can’t wait until we get our own place. I hate spending a night without you.”
“Soon.” I pull her in tighter against my body and kiss the tip of her nose. “We’re almost done with school. Everything is falling into place with our plan, and we’ll be on to phase two before you know it.”
“Ah. Phase two. Remind me what that one is again?” She gives me a mischievous grin, knowing exactly what it is. London loves making me repeat it to her every chance she gets.
“Let’s see . . .” I drift off, playing along. “I think phase two involved getting a dog.”
“Right after . . .” she prompts and raises her eyebrows expectantly.
“Right after—” I cut myself off, feeling for some reason it’s the absolute perfect time to spring a surprise on her. I lean over and reach into the glove box of the truck and pull out a little black velvet box that I’ve been carrying around for over a week, waiting for just the right moment to ask London to make things very official with me.
London’s green eyes widen at the sight of the little box that gives away the one question I want to ask her—the one question that will bond us together forever. Her lips gape open, and she instantly covers them with both hands.
“Jared? Oh my God. Is that? Are you . . . Is that what I think it is?” she asks behind muffling fingers, trying to hold in her excitement.
I laugh when I hear her use my real name, which she usually reserves for when I piss her off and she wants my full attention. This is obviously serious business.
I bite my bottom lip as I open the tiny box and show her the modest diamond ring inside. “It’s not much, I know, and I want you to know that I plan on replacing it when I’m able.”
She wraps her fingers around my wrists. “It’s perfect. The ring doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I have you.”
“You’ll always have me,” I reply instantly, without another thought. My eyes flick down to her kissable mouth. I find myself unable to resist the temptation, so I lean in and press my lips against hers. She opens her mouth and admits my begging tongue. I cup her face and allow myself to revel in the moment before I pull back and stare deeply into her eyes. This woman is absolutely stunning, and I can’t imagine that a more pe
rfect person exists for me on this planet. “Will you marry me, London?”
She traces her fingers along my jawline, never breaking eye contact. “Of course I will.”
“Yeah?” I laugh as I pull out the ring with shaky hands and then slide it onto her ring finger.
I don’t ever remember feeling this happy and complete. Marrying London—officially making her mine—will be the best day of my life.
Her eyes brighten as a huge grin stretches across her face. “Was there ever any doubt? Marrying you has been my dream since I was twelve years old.”
We both stare at the ring on her hand and all the promises to each other that it holds. I grasp her hand in mine and then kiss the ring as it sits on her finger. London might not realize it, but marrying her has been my dream for a very long time too. People always question me, especially other guys, on how I can be so sure that London is the right girl for me since she’s the only one I’ve ever been with, and to that, my answer is simple: when you find your soul mate, you just know. Nothing else in the world matters but her, and no other woman on the planet can even compare.
This is right. Being with her is so easy, and I know it’s the reason that I’m on this planet.
