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Then my heart stops, and I’m totally numb.
Part of me wonders if I’ve just looked at Medusa and turned to stone. Because I can no longer feel my hands, even though they remain in the air, firmly holding my spoils from the store.
William Willoughby stands on my parents’ porch, dressed in a clean white shirt, with the arms rolled up to his elbows, and a pair of tan-colored suit pants.
His hair is slightly messy, waving in the wind, and his eyes are boring into my soul.
In his hands is a huge bunch of red roses.
I hold my breath, unable to speak.
“Hi,” William says, his voice careful, as though he’s testing that it won’t set me off.
I come to life and glance at the strange objects in my hands and stuff them in the drawer beside me. Then I stumble out of the house and close the door behind me.
“What are you doing here?”
William offers me the flowers. “I owe you an apology. A big one,” he says.
I shake my head and begin to argue, but William shuts me up with a look.
“Just listen for a second, okay?”
I nod, with my mouth clamped shut and hold the roses like a trophy. They’re heavy in my arms, and my brain won’t stop spinning.
Of all of the people I expected to see today, William was at the bottom of the list.
He begins to pace the front yard and, judging by the tone of his voice, recite a speech he’s prepared in advance.
“Emily. I have made a million mistakes in my lifetime, but the biggest one of all was letting you go. You consume me. I think about you when I’m brushing my teeth and then can’t figure out if I actually did brush my teeth. So, I do it again. I worry about you while I’m trying to sleep. I wonder if you’re thinking about me while I’m cooking my food. And I’m so consumed by all of these thoughts about you, that I’m burning my food and seriously running out of toothpaste.”
I watch William with a mixture of disbelief and amusement. “Okay…”
William stops and looks at me, his eyes big and sad like a puppy. “Sasha told me everything. And now I see that you were just trying to help a friend. But there’s a question that I have to ask you, and please, for the love of all things holy, be honest.”
I swallow. “Okay,” I say again. Apparently, it’s the only word I’m capable of saying right now.
William looks at the grass and stuffs his hands in his pocket as he clears his throat. Finally, he looks at me again.
“Was everything between us fake?”
I lower the flowers and slowly shake my head. “Not for me, it wasn’t,” I whisper, tears brimming my eyes.
William’s face breaks into a broad smile, one that radiates true joy and relief.
“Then Emily Barnes, I vow to cherish you. To protect you. To love you with all my heart, for the rest of my life,” he says, lowering to his knees. “I have cut off my father and given up all of my inheritance. But I do have a house for you, and all of the love in my heart. Do you take me as your husband?”
I suck in a breath.
He bought the house.
For me. For us.
I glance at the kitchen window to see my family’s faces beaming in my direction. Evan is nodding, mouthing the words, “Say I do.”
I turn back to William’s glowing face, my heart soaring.
We still have so much to learn about each other. And it looks like we both need to figure out how we’re going to make a living. But we’ll figure it all out. Together.
