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38
My breath caught inmy throat. Had he really just asked that? What was I supposed to say? Think? Do? Several heavy seconds ticked past as he continued to stroke the third finger of my left hand. My heart pounded beneath my ribs as I deliberated my answer.
“Nothing like keeping a guy hanging,” he said, forcing a smile.
“I...I just...I didn’t exactly expect to be proposed to in a car outside my parents’ house.”
He laughed. “I’m sorry. The moment felt right, and I had to say it before I chickened out.”
My heart hammered against my ribs, my mouth ran dry, and my head whirled in a hazy fog of surrealness. I had always wanted the ‘fairy tale’ lifestyle—and that included marriage. I yearned for it, my heart ached for it, to know that someone wanted to commit themselves to methatmuch. The past few weeks had been a string of spontaneous decisions—was I now going to change that pattern?
Before I conflicted with myself anymore, I took a deep breath and gave him his answer. “Yes.”
A broad smile enveloped his handsome face. The corners of his chocolate eyes creased up, a film of water glistening over the top.
“I’m the luckiest man alive,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to mine.
I smiled, thinking that really, I was the luckiest woman alive. This man had fixed a soul deep scar in me. He’d allowed me to blossom into this confident woman that had only taken a few short weeks, and he’d relished every stage of it. I couldn’t care less what anyone else might think of our relationship, especially this massive next step, because the only thing that mattered was that it feltright.
We drove back to my house in a comfortable silence, our hands clasped together and stealing glances at each other every now and again. Walking back inside the home I’d created with Ben just added to the reality of what was happening. The Sophie who last stepped foot inside this house was gone—overrun and beaten down by the ‘new’ Sophie. As I looked around at the pictures of the last decade of my life, remembering passionate kisses, laughter, and tears, it all dissolved into nothing as that unforgiveable affair between Ben and Alyssa hung in the air like a black cloud threatening a storm.
I was settled with the fact I’d attempted to fix things. I’d still entertained him in conversation and even contemplated getting back together, but ultimately, it wasn’t meant to be. If it had of been, then my head wouldn’t have been turned by Brady.
“You ok?” Brady asked. He laid his hands on my shoulders, kneading at the tense knots in my muscles.
I leaned my head back into his firm body and closed my eyes. It was then that I realised Brady was my heaven, my home. I could have been stood in a swamp with crocs snapping at my legs, but the way he made my heart flutter and warmed the deepest parts of my being washed everything else away. He was my world—everything else was just detail.
“I couldn’t be better,” I said, a contented smile tweaking at my lips. After a couple of moments of his delightful massage and soft kisses trailing across my cheek, I turned around and placed my arms around his neck. “Let’s go home.”
He jerked his head backwards and frowned. “I don’t understand?”
“My home is anywhere with you,” I said, biting back a bout of joyful tears. “And that’s not here. This is...alien to me now. I feel like a foreigner, like I don’t belong. I want to be back in Arizona—where it’s just you, me, and the never-ending desert.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded. “Cowgirl wants her cowboy, but this isn’t where we play.”
He grinned and pressed his lips to mine. “You’re right about that.” He took a moment to look around at the clinical house we were stood in. “I can’t picture you living the life this house portrays. It’s...monotone, always the same.”
It was true—everything was painted magnolia—bleak, bland, and boring. Strategically placed shelves and pictures were dotted about, but even their frames were cold and dreary. Tiles covered the entire downstairs floor and it held nothing but a ‘don’t touch me’ look. Had I really lived like this for so long? Or had I just blended into my habitual life to such an extent that I paid no attention to what was around me?
“Well you, Mr Lancaster, are definitely not monotone.” I lifted a hand and stroked through his hair. “Thank you,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
“For what?”
“For saving me...fromme.”
He smiled and cupped my cheek. “I haven’t saved you from you. You’ve saved yourself, Sophie. I’m just forever grateful that I got a front row seat to see you bloom into this beautiful, passionate woman who is giving her heart to me.”
Heat flushed my skin to new shades of red at his heartfelt words. Those few words alone would be something I would take to my grave, comfort myself with on my death bed.
“I’m going to look after this,” he said, moving his hand to my chest and resting it over my heart. “This is worth more to me than anything else. I know how hard it’s been for you to even think about trusting someone else and I can’t believe you’ve found the courage inside of you to trust again.” He kissed me with a fervent passion. “Thank you for making that person me.”
The floodgates opened then, and I cried inside his arms like a little girl who’d just found a long-lost teddy. After a good few minutes, he whispered into my ear, “Let’s go home, Mrs Lancaster.” I nodded and took his hand as we headed for the door. He stopped before opening the door and asked, “Do you not want anything from here?”
I shook my head. “The girl who lived this life is long gone. Time to look forwards, not back.”
He kissed my forehead. “That’s my lady.”
