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Garrison gazes at the flickering candle, his thoughts swirling.
I scoot closer now, my pulse haywire. “Even if I open a London branch, Lily said I could be in charge of opening more locations.” My voice is too quiet, and in this tender way, he asks me to repeat. So I do, and I add, “She’s offering me a job when I graduate. Like a corporate-level, high-paying position that I hope…I hope I can be ready for, but it sounds like a dream…”
Putting my business degree to good use while being surrounded by superheroes and comics every day—I couldn’t ask for a better career.
I wait for him to reply, holding my breath. “Garrison?”
“You’ll be good at it,” he says, certain of this fact. “I know you will be.”
“I could suck.”
“No.” He has so much faith in me that my heart ascends to new levels. “You’re smart, Willow, and you’re so passionate about business and comics. It makes perfect sense.”
I scrutinize the slight dip of his mouth. “But…?” There has to be a but coming.
“But what does this mean for us?” He grimaces. “And I feel like a cock bringing myself into this and dampening the happiness of your career path.”
“It’s not dampened,” I say with a peeking smile. “And I’d hope you’d think about what this means for us…because I’d rather there be an us to think about, you know?” Giddiness, a strange kind of giddy ignites.
Maybe because he’s smiling again. “Alright, that’s good then.” He looks me over, his eyes carrying gentle affection. “What about us? You want to live in London full-time after graduation?”
“I’d rather just fly back every now and then. I know the paparazzi is nuts in Philly, but I miss it there. I miss everyone.”
Garrison nods strongly, and I can tell he likes this plan. “It’s not that I don’t love London,” he explains to me. “It’s a city that’ll always remind me of you. But I love Philly.”
I smile. “Me too.”
It’s where I met my brothers, where I met my best friend Daisy, and where I met my first love who’s sitting across from me six years later.
We talk a bit more about my future job. I try not to glance at my phone, but I swear we put our food orders in over forty minutes ago.
I don’t care much about the pizza though.
I just like being here with Garrison.
He’s gone a little quiet, and he rubs his palms, elbows on the table. He’s staring around but his eyes always land on me, almost too much.
I give him a look.
He gives me one. “What?”
I shrug, waiting for him to tell me something. But he inhales a tense breath and licks his lips, just looking deeper into me.
I decide to talk. “Do you think they forgot our order?”
He scans the restaurant quickly, then back to me. “It probably takes a while to cook a fresh pizza.” He seems disinterested in the food.
“How’s lacrosse going?” I ask since he’s been playing on a club team. Just for fun on the weekends. He’s more resilient and determined than he lets on, or maybe he even realizes. Not a lot of people would return to a sport they have a love-hate relationship with, let alone find enjoyment in the activity again.
“It’s good.” He nods.
“You’ve been saying that a lot,” I tell him.
He looks confused.
I clarify, “It’s good, that’s good, everything’s good.”
“What can I say? I’m a thousand-page thesaurus.” His sarcasm is thick, a smile attached.
I want to laugh but my lips draw down. “Really, though, you’re starting to worry me. Did something happen—”
“No, I promise, Willow, everything is perfect.” His eyes grow far more tender, and he reaches a hand across the table.
I place my palm in his, and his thumb strokes my knuckles, expanding my lungs. His gaze is welling up, just looking at me.
It causes me to tear up. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“Because I love you, Willow Hale. You’re the greatest friend I’ve ever had, the most beautiful heart I’ve ever felt, and every morning I wake up, I can only hope to wake to you. Thinking of a single day without you in my life is physical torture.” He takes my other hand, careful not to knock over the candle. “There was a time where I didn’t even want to live till tomorrow, and now I don’t ever want this life with you to end.”
Overwhelmed tears roll down my cheeks, emotion that I can’t conceal. Emotion that I don’t try to hide.
He keeps going, his voice choked, on the verge of crying. “I want to play Street Fighter when we’re too old to work the fucking controllers, and I want our kid to beat every high score we set. I want my girl, my greatest friend, to be the mother of my child, and to be my wife.”
