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If anyone ever told me I would end up brewing coffee for Charlie Cole in my own kitchen after asking for his blessing to marry his daughter... Life is full of surprises.
“Are you going to do one of those baby registry things?” he asks Bianca while she slices the dessert.
“I don't know. I hadn't really thought about it,” she admits while licking cream and cocoa powder from her thumb. “I guess? I'm not even sure what we need.”
“Don't look at me,” I say with a shrug when the two of them do just that. “I'm sure they've come up with at least another dozen must-haves since Tatum was born.”
“Maybe that's something we could do together,” Charlie suggests, meeting my gaze over the top of her head. Why do I feel like this is a test? Probably because it is. He wants to be sure he has a place in all of this, that I won't shove him out of the way.
“I'm sure you would be much more helpful than I ever could,” I admit, handing him a steaming cup. He makes a point of holding my gaze, inclining his head ever so slightly. That subtle gesture encompasses a thousand words.
I passed the test.
“Before we eat...” Oh, I'm doing this. It felt like the moment would never come. Bianca gives me a quizzical smile when I take her hands, turning her away from the table.
“What's up?” She looks at Charlie. “What's happening?”
“There's something I need to say.” And now that the time has come, everything I rehearsed in my head vanishes in a puff of smoke. I don't have the first idea where to start. How do you tell someone their existence makes yours worthwhile? How can I ever express the way she changed me?
The thing is, with her father here, I'm not sure how I want to go that deep. Certain things are for her ears only. Rather than stumble my way through, I cut to the chase by getting down on one knee and reaching into my pocket.
“Oh, my God.” She covers her mouth with one trembling hand, her eyes as wide as saucers. “Is this really happening?”
“It really is.” I open the box and hold it up, offering the ring since I can't pull out my heart and offer that instead.
“I love you,” I murmur as my heart pounds out of control. This woman has complete hold over me, body and soul. She'll never understand how wholly she owns me. My entire existence hinges on this moment. Her answer. Three letters. I know what she's going to say, since she already has, but that does nothing to lessen this profound moment. “Will you be my wife?”
“Oh, Callum,” she chokes out before the tears begin to flow again. “I—”
Whatever she's about to say is cut off by an ear-splitting explosion that rocks the house.
BIANCA
There's a ringing in my ears and a high-pitched squealing that makes it nearly impossible to hear anything. I can vaguely make out Callum's shouting. My father shouts something back, but I can't make out the words. It's like trying to listen to someone speak while you're underwater.
The smell of smoke tickles my nostrils. What is burning? Callum rushes towards me, his hands cup my cheeks and I want to tell him I'm okay but I can't hear my own voice.
What happened?
The look on his face is pure terror, and his hands wrap tight around my arms as he pulls me through the kitchen, my Dad close behind us. Once outside, the fresh air helps a little, but I still can't put the pieces together on what happened. All I know is that my heart's pounding out of my chest, and I think I'm going to throw up.
“Are you alright?” I can read Callum's lips even if it sounds like he's talking to me from behind a closed door. He runs his hands over my arms, torso, face, and neck. “Were you injured?” I shake my head hard and he touches his forehead to mine for a moment before letting me go. My Dad gathers me in his arms.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice muffled. My head bobs up and down, and I lean against him when he wraps me in a protective hug. I can't get my body to stop trembling.
A minute ago, Callum was on one knee, looking up at me with so much love I didn't know how I could take it. I was overwhelmed, overjoyed, and blissfully unaware of what was about to happen. Everything was finally clicking into place; my happy ending was within sight.
Now, Callum paces like a caged animal, shouting into his phone. He even kicks a patio chair into the pool in his rage.
“What happened?” That's all I can say, over and over, while thin wisps of smoke begin drifting out through the partly opened sliding door.
“An explosion,” Dad says close to my ear. “Something exploded.”
“That fucking package!” Callum roars.
“What package?” My question is swallowed up by Callum's continuous shouting. I've seen him like this before. He is ready to kill someone.
“There was a package.” Dad is probably shouting, too, since his ears are probably ringing as bad as mine are. “It came when you were in the bathroom.”
