Page 129 of Fate Fiction

Caroline followed closely behind and put her arms around Andrea. “Caroline,” she waved, “the more emotionally stable counterpart to my lovely fiancée here.”

He shook her hand as well. “Lovely to meet you both—Dani, can we go somewhere more private?” Evan’s eyes darted around at the phone cameras still hovering mid air, the occasional flash going off.

“Shit, yeah, of course,” I answered. He gripped my hand and pulled me out of the station, the sounds of people “whooping” echoing and getting quieter as we ascended the steps into the chilly March air.

Crowds were still milling about, but there was an alcove I followed him into. It was tight. Our backs were pressed against the frigid brick and I could still feel his hot breaths on my forehead.

“I was going to come back to you. I wanted to apologize for freaking out on you—” I started.

He lifted a finger to my lips. “It doesn’t matter now. I’ve tried to play it cool and wait for the right moment.”

“Right moment for what?”

He wringed his hands in front of him. “To tell you that I’ve thought about you every day since June. And to tell you that every time I saw you I wanted to tell you that I would paddle across the ocean in the back of a shitty canoe if it meant I could be with you,” he reached for my hands. I let them rest in his callused palms. “You are one of the smartest, funniest, and most interesting people I’ve ever met and the fact that you’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen makes me completely, entirely obsessed with you. And I promise you, wholeheartedly, no matter how big of a fan you used to be of Evan McLeod, I’m a much, much bigger fan of Dani Grant.”

“Well I don’t know if that’s entirely true because only one of us had a poster of the other hanging up in their college dorm,” I laughed.

“Any chance you’ve done any poster-sized promotional shoots for the book yet?”

I shook my head. Tears teased in the corners of my eyes. I knew what I was committing to now. I saw flashes of a future with red carpets and celebrity gossip pages, but when I actually looked, all I really saw was Evan. Evan was all that mattered. “I’m sorry for making you do this over and over. I wanted a slow burn between us but fate wanted other plans.”

He softly smiled. “I wanted other plans too. I like you so much,” his voice cracked. “You could let me love you and I’d love you so, so well, Dani. I want a life with you, I want you. What do you want?”

A pregnant pause hovered between us. Evan spun a piece of my hair in his fingertips as I ruminated on the question.

“I want to write about you,” I said, and I meant every word. “I want to fill my notebooks with every one of our conversations so I can remember them. I want to write novels just for the two of us. I want to find more hidden places to escape to. I want every one of my mornings to feel like I’m sitting on a porch with you, drinking coffee that is way too strong, staring out at the lake. I want to go to sleep smelling like a bonfire, smiling, because I’m thinking about you. I want you, too. I don’t give a fuck about anything else.”

Somewhere in the distance, somebody started playing a love song over a speaker.

“Sounds like we have our future planned out, then.”

epilogue

. . .

September, 5 years later

The oversized Sir Erwyn shirt I slept in the night before was my only covering as I precariously carried coffees back to our bedroom. Evan had bought it for me as a joke on our first anniversary. Unfortunately for him, it was the most comfortable thing I owned and my sleep shirt of choice.

“That damn shirt is the quickest turn off I can think of,” he laughed as he took his coffee from me, jokingly averting his eyes.

“You should have thought of that before you bought it for me years ago, you created this monster.” I pulled at the hem a bit and did a little twirl. “Besides, if you don’t want to look at the shirt you can always take it off me. That option has always been on the table.” I set my coffee on the nightstand and climbed over towards Evan across our bed.

The early morning sun cast our room in a golden glow, the windows of the skyscrapers reflected the sunlight like towering mirrors. New York had been our shared home for nearly four years. As much as Evan and I pretended we could manage the medium distance between us, it got old quickly.

After one too many train delays, Evan let the question burst out of him. Did I want to move in with him? We’d been together a little over a year, and neither of us saw any sign of things coming to an end. I was certain he was ready to propose then but had to restrain himself a little longer.

The time had long been overdue for me to move on from Boston. There was so much I’d miss, namely Andrea and Caroline, but they’d been tossing around the idea of moving across the state to start a family in the Berkshires.

I agreed to move in on one condition, I had to be able to decorate our shared apartment however I wanted.

He happily accepted, and I loaded my car up with my clothes and favorite vintage decor before I made the drive from my apartment in Cambridge to his building one last time. We didn’t leave his apartment for three days after.

Evan set down his own coffee and tugged at the collar of the t-shirt. “I’m never going to be opposed to that.”

I slid the shirt over my head and he wrapped his hands around my waist. We fit together absurdly well. His palms brushed over my curves, he reveled in my body like it was something holy and new. I would never, ever be over it.

The taste of coffee lingered on his lips as I kissed him. He dragged his hands down and cupped my ass, gripping at the flesh.