Harper—I'm waiting outside your parents' house. I'll be here as long as it takes. —V
I stare at my phone screen, unable to breathe.
The video has 3.1 million views now.
The comments are exploding:
"I'M NOT CRYING YOU'RE CRYING"
"This man just risked his entire career for his wife I'm?—"
"THE APRON. THE COOKING METAPHOR. I CAN'T."
"If my future husband doesn't love me like this I don't want it"
"CEO OF THE YEAR? MORE LIKE HUSBAND OF THE CENTURY"
My phone rings. It's Margot.
"Did you watch it?" she demands the second I answer.
“Yes. I did. I just?—"
"He's outside, Harper. Right now. I drove past Mom and Dad’s house ten minutes ago and he's standing on the sidewalk in a suit. In the snow. Waiting for you."
"He's—what?"
"He's outside. Go look out your window."
I stumble to my bedroom window and look down.
And there, standing on the sidewalk in front of my parents' house, is Victor Kade.
He's wearing the same suit from the video. No coat. Just standing there in the December snow, looking up at the house like he's trying to memorize it.
He's been out there for?—
I check the video timestamp.
Thirty-eight minutes.
In nineteen-degree weather.
Waiting for me.
"Harper?" Margot's voice pulls me back. "What are you going to do?"
"I—I don't know?—"
"Yes, you do. You're going to go down there. You're going to tell him you love him. And you're going to let him grovel properly."
"I look terrible. I'm hungover. I'm wearing pajamas with cartoon cats on them?—"
"Harper. The man just made a public declaration of love that's been viewed by three million people. He doesn't care about your pajamas."
"But—"
"No buts. Get your ass downstairs before he gets hypothermia."
