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My boss was a tool when my life imploded last fall and work, while still important to me, lost its spot as my top priority. Seeing all the blockades I’ve pushed through to still be here, juggling all of my demands, changed her perspective. It’s summer vacation for Rainey, and I don’t have to rush out of my office at 2:30 on the dot to make it back to Alexandria for school pick up. But come August, I’ll return to that season of life, knowing I have the full support of my boss and co-workers.
I pack up my belongings, calling the work day finished just after five. Logan worked out an arrangement with Claire for her to kidsit both girls during the summer, and he picks them up after work, dropping Rainey off at my place. She comes home happy and tired every day from being at the farm, getting to act like a kid with no worries in the world—as she should.
Walking out of my office for the weekend, Logan texts:
Logan: Claire had something come up with one of her charities. I’ll bring the girls over as soon as you’re home. Want me to make dinner tonight?
His thoughtfulness never ends. Logan spent too much of our time looking after my needs. We chatted about the very subject two days ago, as he gave me a foot massage, and we watched a movie at his apartment. He swore he understood why I felt passionate about him not worrying about me. Yesterday he texted and let me know he shared the struggle with his therapist.
During my hospital stay, I confided in him that I sought help to navigate my PTSD and trauma. He’d been inspired to continue working through his grief by finding a therapist of his own. It’s early in each of our therapy journeys, but I believe we’ll both walk away better than we started.
The house is warmly lit by candles when I walk inside. I’d be terrified someone’s broken in again, but who breaks into a home to light candles? I turn the corner to exit the mudroom and see Logan standing in the space between the living and dining rooms. My pulse quickens at the view of him in a dark gray suit, his hair styled back.
“Hey babe,” he bashfully says as I approach, flashing me a big smile.
“Hi. What’s all of this?”
“A grand gesture. I think you made fun of me for my love of ‘the big romantic gestures’ in rom-com movies.” He lifts an eyebrow at me.
I’ve taunted him more than once for the way he gets excited when one love interest goes out of the way to concoct an unbelievable scheme to win the other over. His enthusiasm for chick flicks is ridiculously endearing.
“Maybe a time or two,” I say, playing it cool even though my entire body threatens to freak out at his gesture and how damn sexy he looks. We’ve had almost a year of feeling every emotion under the sun together, and there’s no denying IloveLogan, but warning bells are urging me to run because I’m not ready for a proposal—not today.
He bridges the distance between us, drawing my eyes to see he’s set up more than candles. Peach rose petals are scattered across the surrounding floor. He leans down and kisses me, and every nerve in my body tunes into the feel of his tongue slipping into my mouth. Pleasure hums through me. We make out like lovesick teenagers until he leads me to the dining room table and pulls out a chair for me.
“The road to today nearly broke us.” He says, taking the hand I sat on the table. “I regret we had to be pulled apart when everything was coming together for us. We’ve talked about my reasons for moving out at length. Maggie was always the center of my choice. As I’ve worked with my therapist, I’ve realized I didn’t just leave because of my daughter. I also left for myself.”
His eyes search mine to decipher if I am following what he has to say. I’m absolutely not. What felt like the beginning of a proposal has turned into something teetering closer to another breakup.
“I don’t understand.” I pull my hand away from his.
“I was working through losing Hannah and trying to reconcile my pain over her, but I felt elated every time you entered the room. It was dizzying. I didn’t have second thoughts, and I didn’t want us to end, but I knew you deserve someone who didn’t spend half his time obsessing over whether his dead wife would be angry at him for falling in love with someone else. I moved out for Maggie’s sake, but doing so opened my eyes to how much healing I have to do, even now.”
“Logan, I’ve never been jealous of Hannah. It’d be weird if you suddenly stopped caring about her.”
“I know, and I love that about you. But I still couldn’t give you as much of me as I wanted.”
Where is this going? Have we come this far only to end here?
He reaches for my hand again and looks me straight in the eyes. “Noah, I had to choose myself before I could choose you. I needed to sit in my grief without rushing it and accept Hannah will never be a physical part of my life again.”
I feel the beat of both our hearts centered in the little globe created by our hands.
“Choosing myself gave me the ability to choose you. To choose us. To choose Rainey.”
He stands and reaches into his pocket. I yelp. “No. Stop. Don’t. I’m not ready for this. I can’t marry you, Logan—I can’t marry anyone. You’re not the only one who’s choosing themselves. For the first time in my life, I’m keeping my needs in mind and I’m not ready for this. Not yet.”
He smiles at me in amusement. If I were him, I’d be furious—probably even really sad—definitely not smiling. “I’m not proposing to you, Noah.”
Contradicting his words, he pulls a ring box from his pocket and sits it on the table in front of me. “Open it.”
I pick up the small box with shaking hands and nearly faint when I see a delicate silver band offset by several differently colored gemstones inside.
“It’s not an engagement ring. If I were asking you to marry me, there would be way more fanfare than this.” He winks. “You know, grand gestures and all.”
“Why’s there a ring in this box, then?”
“It’s a promise ring.” He makes a face, poking fun at himself, and groans, “I know, I know. Giving a woman a promise ring at my age is hokey, maybe even a little cringey.” I listen, not sure I agree. “The ring’s a symbol that I wantmore. I’m not ready to pop the question, and you’re not ready for me to. But I have to crush any doubt or fear still lingering in your mind. I’m in. I’m not ready to move back in together yet, but I can’t risk you living another day wondering where we stand. I want you. I want Rainey. I want theveryunique family we’ve made. I want all of it.”
