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“Really?”
“Yes, really.” He turns to face me. “I said that day on the docks that I was sorry and I would one day earn your trust.” He takes a deep breath. “I want you back, Liv. Now that you’re free, I hope you will give me a second chance.”
“I don’t know if I can trust you.”
“What can I do to make you believe in me again, to gain your trust?” I think about it for a minute. I’m not sure. I start to reply but he cuts me off. “What if I were to make a commitment to you. A promise to never do anything to hurt you.” He swivels on his stool so his whole body is facing me. He looks weird, nervous almost.
“I don’t know, I . . .”
Without warning, he stands up and drops to one knee. Holy fuck! He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box. “Marry me,” he says as he opens the box. “I’ve had this ring for over a year. My hope was to ask you over the summer, but . . .” he trails off. “I kept it in hopes that someday I would have the chance to ask you.”
I am stunned speechless. He looks up at me, waiting for an answer. The entire bar grows quiet, watching our every move. “Evan, I . . .” I look at him then the ring. Wow. It’s beautiful. A very plain band with a round solitaire maybe a carat in size. I think I’m in shock.
“Well? What do you think?”
Holy crap. I always knew this day would come, but that was before Brandi. Everything with Chase was so extreme, could I have been rebounding? Chase made me feel beautiful, though. I mean, I know Evan thinks that way, he just never shows it. He says he made a mistake. He insists it was a one-time thing. Can I hold him responsible for that? Do I want to give up all the years we had together for one mistake? I do love him, but is it enough? Was not forgiving him the wrong move?
I look down at him and say, “Evan, do you really love me?”
A tear rolls down his cheek. “Liv, of course I do. I am so sorry and will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Just say yes.” He silently begs me to say yes.
I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol speak
ing, but a yes escapes from my lips. He jumps up, grabs me off my stool and swings me around. Everyone in the bar is applauding. He puts me down and slips the ring on my finger.
“I want us to be married as soon as possible. I was thinking next weekend.” Wait, what? “I know you love the beach, so I was thinking of Key West. We could fly there next Friday night and be home late Sunday.” Wow, he’s moving fast.
“I don’t know, I-”
“I don’t want to wait for you to be mine any longer. I’ll make all of the arrangements. We’ll leave after you get off of work on Friday.”
Holy crap. What is with the urgency? Does he think I’ll change my mind? This is crazy. I can’t possibly plan a wedding in a week. There are so many things I need to do.
“But I need a dress . . .”
“It will be a beach wedding. Nothing fancy. Just the way you always wanted, remember?” It’s true that I never envisioned a fancy wedding with all of the extras and add on’s. Just a few select friends and immediate family.
“What about Brenda? I don’t know if she’ll be able to get the time off.”
“I’ll talk to Brenda.” Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.
“No, let me. She hates you.”
“All right. You talk to her. Besides, we can always have a small party here when we get back if she can’t get off.”
“No, she has to be there.” I take a large swig of wine, finishing the glass. Evan tries to call the bartender over, but I shake my head. “I’m good, thanks.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I’m tired and should get to my mom’s house. I’ll need to spend some time with her this weekend. Okay?”
“Okay.” He pays the check and helps me off my stool. Turning to me, he grabs me and kisses me. Before my brain can register what’s happening, he releases me. “You have made me the happiest man alive,” he beams.
I wake up late the next morning, almost forgetting I’m at my mom’s. My head is killing me. I pop a few Motrin in my mouth followed by a water chaser. Ugh, I feel like I got run over by a bus. I look down at the ring on my finger and start to remember the events of last night. Crap, I need to call Brenda. She is going to kill me, and not a quick and painless death either. I haven’t had time to tell her about Chase. She is going to go ape shit.
I go downstairs to make myself breakfast. My mom is sitting in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee. “Good morning,” she says.
“Hi,” I mutter back reaching for a mug. Now, the question is: how to tell my mom I’m getting married next week. Okay, here it goes. “Chase and I broke up.”
