But when I realized the woman I loved would probably put her own dreams on hold while I actively pursued mine, I couldn’t sit back and let that happen.
Knowing she wouldn’t accept an amazing out-of-the-country opportunity on her own, I purposely devised a strategy—a dim-witted one, mind you—to push her away. I became the biggest dick alive, so she’d become frustrated enough to leave, go after her own dreams, without feeling guilty about leaving me behind.
Only my plan backfired because I ended up hurting her—hurtingyou, Macy Sinclair—in ways unimaginable.
The last couple of months have been torture without you, I’ve been a prisoner of this mess I created, and can only imagine what these months have been like for you.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t sleep.
I can’t eat.
I can’t dream.
I can’t be…without you.
Because I love you.
So, though you’re miles away, I wanted to tell you I’m sorry for being a jerk. Sorry for hurting you. Sorry for making you think love stories don’t exist, when in fact, ours is, in my opinion, the greatest ever told. I pray you’ll forgive me.
And today, I am openly proposing to you just as I did a few months ago before I messed all of this up…
No one else will ever hold my heart, love me, the way you do, and I promise, no one will hold your heart, adore, appreciate, and protect you the way I do.
Seems from day one we’ve been a love story in the making, and this ring will guide us toward our happily-forever-after.
Let’s hold our hearts in each other’s hands for life.
Macy Sinclair, marry me, baby.
Please.
It had beenweeks since a smile found my lips, his beautiful words holding all of me captive, dead heart finally beating again.
Butterflies break-dancing in my chest, I heard a very familiar, “Hey,” that sent my heart cartwheeling to the moon.
Spinning around, my eyes caught sight of Lucas Stone standing two feet behind me, holding a ring box, wearing a chest-hugging silk tee, and a pair of cock-enhancing jeans I wanted to yank off.
Hands over face, I melted, boohooing, not caring that mascara was all over my face, or that the entire office staff came from behind their desks to watch the next few minutes unfold.
“Hey,” I finally replied, a giggle bubbling free.
Walking over to where I was sitting, Lucas got down on one knee and flashed a smile that could heal a thousand love-shattered hearts.
He cupped my face, the minuscule contact a reminder that his touch alone set my whole body on fire. “I’ve waited my whole life to have you, and I swear if you marry me, I’m never letting you go. Please marry me, baby.”
I flashed a smirk, knowing it made him all sorts of crazy. “Give me one reason why, Mr. Stone.”
He pulled me close, our lips only a scrape away. “Because, Macy Sinclair, I promised you forever.”
42
One Month Later
Lucas: Hey, meet me in the hallway.
I eyeballed my future husband’s text message, fighting back a grin. Why he’d asked for a meeting in the hallway twenty minutes before the start of our wedding, was beyond me.
