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Her expression softens, and she nods. “God, this is so fucked up.”
“Tell me about it.”
Our back-and-forth debate falls silent. No more rebuttals. No closing arguments. There’s nothing more I can say to convince her.
The decision—my future, our future—is in her hands.
If she says no, I have no backup plan. No countermove. If I have to get married, there’s only one woman I envision as my wife. And she’s standing next to me.
Simone might not know all my secrets, but I don’t know hers either.
And that’s fine with me.
“Why the Wakefields’ property?” she asks. “I’m sure they aren’t the only people selling land. Eventually you’ll find something else equally great or better.”
“Aiden and I created a lot of memories on that land.” I glance up at the stars, unable to look at her for the next part. “I still feel connected to him when I’m there. My brothers and I want to honor his memory by having the program where he and I practically grew up.”
“But what if they don’t sell the land to you even after you marry?”
“Then we can divorce if that’s what you want. Or we stay married to help your business. I won’t end our marriage just because the Wakefields sell to someone else. I won’t leave you high and dry like that.”
Simone’s gaze turns skyward, and she worries her lower lip. “I’ll do it,” she says after a moment. “I’ll marry you, but on one condition. Well, four, really.”
“What conditions?” Why do I get a feeling she won’t be going easy on me?
“I want a cat. But not just any cat,” she quickly amends. “It has to be a British shorthair kitten.”
“Why a British shorthair kitten?”
“Because they’re adorable as both kittens and adult cats. And—and I’ve always loved the breed, but my apartment doesn’t allow pets.”
“Okay, I’ll get—”
“And I want a puppy. A golden labradoodle puppy. That’s my second condition.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask what the other two conditions are.” The first two were specific enough.
“The third one is a horse.” The corner of her mouth twitches. Not enough to be called a smug smile. But enough to betray the hint of one.
“What, no specific breed?”
“Er, one I can ride? So not one of those huge horses like a Clydesdale.”
In the game of negotiation, the golden rule to winning is always aim higher than you’re willing to settle for. That way the other side feels like they’re the winner when you agree to their terms when in reality you got exactly what you want.
And I have no doubt that’s what she’s doing.
“What’s the final condition?”
“If I’m offered a great job in Portland, I get to move back there, and we’ll just have to manage a long-distance marriage. Portland isn’t too far away, so it’s doable.”
“What if the job offer is for somewhere else? Somewhere much farther away?”
“On the rare chance that happens, we’ll get a divorce. But other than the few résumés I sent out last night, I’m not actively looking for a job. I want to focus on my subscription box business and work at making it a success.” She turns to me. “I’ve been away from Grams for too long. The hit-and-run was a wake-up call. I want to spend more time with her while I can. So what’s it gonna be? Do you agree with my conditions?”
“No horse. Only the puppy and kitten. And I agree to the fourth condition. I don’t want to hold you back on what you’ve worked hard for.” It wouldn’t be fair of me to expect otherwise.
“Great. I guess I’ll start shopping for pet supplies.”
