Page 39 of His First Wife


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I looked inside the car and there was a bouquet of purple roses in the passenger seat.

I was smiling. I remember that. I was smiling and opening the door.

I picked up a little gold card that was on top of the car and read it.

Do you feel this yet? it read.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to find Damien standing behind me, wearing a black suit with a gold tie and white gloves. He had a stern look on his face.

“Damien? What are you doing here? What are you wearing? Are you going to the ball too?”

“I’m here to escort you to your destination,” he replied, extending his arm.

“To the ball?” I was intrigued, yet confused. “Where’s Jamison?”

He simply winked suggestively and signaled for me to take his arm. He turned and walked away from Jamison’s apartment, toward a small cabana area in the apartment complex where they had a pool.

“Where’s Jamison?” I asked but Damien was silent. As we neared the pool area, entering a small garden of trees and bushes that were intricately set up around it, I could hear what sounded like humming.

When we turned toward the walkway that led toward the pool, two lines of Jamison’s fraternity brothers stood facing each other, dressed in the same suits as Damien. They were holding candles and now I could make out that they were humming my favorite Stevie Wonder song, “Isn’t She Lovely?”

“What’s going on?” I asked to no one in particular. My eyes widened as I saw that the trees had been decorated with white lights and I saw that dozens of pictures of Jamison and me were hanging from gold ribbons.

“You will have to walk the rest of the way alone,” Damien said, turning to me. “But before you decide to go any farther, please read this note.” He handed me a piece of parchment paper that was rolled up like a scroll and walked away.

I was already crying before I opened the letter. The mayor’s ball was far from my memory, and my mysterious surprise was taking my breath away.

Kerry Ann:

Sometimes, when I’m alone, I think of you. I become lonely and sad, yearning for the next time we’ll be together. But then, like a magician, I create you in my mind. I build you up—from your tiny round toes to the soft brown hair that grows around your navel. From the sweet scent of the insides of your palms to the back of your neck. From the calming sound of your voice when you say hello to the passion I feel when I kiss you. The point is that I have memorized every inch of you in my mind, from top to bottom. I do believe, Kerry Ann, from the depths of my soul, that you were made for me. I love you with everything that I am, was, and ever will be. You make me want to be the best man I can, and while the memory of you is good, I have decided that I don’t want to spend another minute having to be a magician and recall you in my mind. I want you here always by my side forever.

Jamison

I could hardly read the last two lines. The tears had clouded my eyes and my heart was beating so fast. I looked up from the paper and the guys raised their candles high so I could walk down the path toward the pool.

As they continued to hum the song, one sang the words a little slower, as my father used to do when I was young. It was like a dream.

At the end of the path, I saw the pool shining with lights and color. It was beautiful. Purple rose petals drifted in the water, around floating tea lights. A small wooden walkway that I’d never seen before had been built on top of the water, down the center of the pool, and right in the middle of the bridge was Jamison, standing dressed in white.

The men stopped humming and the soloist sang the chorus alone as I walked down the plank toward Jamison. I couldn’t believe he’d done all of this for me. I knew the man who wrote those words in the letter. I knew him well, and I loved him so much. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and show him that I was worth that kind of love, that I could receive it and I could give it.

“Baby,” I said, finally standing before him. The men had separated and now they were encircling the pool, their candles making the water shimmer even more beneath the dark sky. It was the kind of romantic moment women dreamed of. But I was living it, and feeling like the luckiest woman in the world.

“I don’t ever want to be without you, Kerry,” Jamison said. “I told you before that when I first saw you, for the first time, I felt something in my heart.” He placed his hand over his heart. “And I know now that I never want to be without that feeling again.”

Every hair on my body raised. What was he saying? Was Jamison about to ask me to marry him? Did he want me to be his wife? And . . . did I want him to be my husband? We hadn’t talked about it. Not this. I loved him. I really did, but we were so different. From different worlds. Could our worlds ever come together? Would he love me forever? Could he? All of these thoughts raced through my mind in seconds. I was happy but nervous; overjoyed but scared as a baby. This man was in love with me. Not in love like I thought . . . he was innnnn lovvveeee. I knew I loved him, but I didn’t want to let him down.

Jamison got down on one knee, reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny, red ring box.

“No,” I cried.

He looked up at me with terror on his face.

“I mean . . . not no, but no . . .”

“Kerry, I . . .” he tried.

“I mean, I know I want to marry you,” I said. Everyone was silent. “I do, but . . .” I bent down by his side. “This is a big deal,” I said. “I love you and I know I want to be with you, Jamison, but I just . . . I’m messed up.”

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