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I must have said the right thing because Marlow’s features soften.
She leans her head against my chest. “It’s such a long time. What if we can’t make a long-distance relationship work?”
“It’s only three months,” I remind her. “That’s twelve weeks, a fourth of a year, or approximately ninety days. It pales in comparison to spending forever with you.”
She tilts her head, blinking up at me with shock. We might not be ready for a proposal, wedding, or more kids, but that doesn’t stop me from conveying my desire for those things to her. She’s my end game, and whatever challenges we face, we’ll navigate them together.
“Wait. What about this house? My lease is up in two months.”
I chuckle softly. “You can do whatever you want with it. It’s yours.”
“What do you mean?”
“Rick owned several properties in Aspen Grove and wasn’t maintaining any of them. As of last week, Stafford Holdings owns them all. Except for this one.” I motion around us. “I bought this one for you, because I know how much you like it.”
“Wait. What do you mean Rick wasn’t maintaining the properties?”
“He never hired anyone to shovel your sidewalk,” I tell her honestly.
“So, let me get this straight. Even though you weren’t particularly fond of me when we first met, you took it upon yourself to shovel my driveway and mow my lawn without being asked?” She appears genuinely perplexed.
“I liked you from the beginning, sunshine.” I drop a kiss to her sweet lips. “I just wasn’t ready to admit it to myself.”
It took me a while to come around, but now that Marlow is mine, I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure she stays that way.
33
MARLOW
“HEY, MARLOW.”
“Hey, lolabug.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of Daddy and Waffles while you’re gone.” She pats my hand with a big smile on her face.
My lip trembles, and I fight tears at her thoughtfulness.
It’s my last time putting her to bed before I go to Paris and I’m an emotional wreck.
The past three weeks seemed to have flown by.
Dylan, Lola and I have spent every moment we can together. Making popcorn, and watching movies, huddled on the sofa. Eating dinner together. Going to the Family Craft Corner class and taking long walks through the neighborhood with Waffles. Like a real family.
I’m going to miss them all so much.
My flight leaves early in the morning. Dylan is taking me to a hotel in the city tonight, so we’re closer to the airport and can have some alone time before I go. His parents are staying with Lola and Waffles while he’s gone.
When we broke the news to Lola about me going to Paris, she was unfazed. Her first question was if she could come with me so she could see the Eiffel tower like Madeline. Her second question was to ask if Waffles could move into her room while I was away.
The jury is still out on that last one. Dylan’s adamant that Waffles will be sleeping in the living room. I give that arrangement one night before he gives in and lets Waffles stay in Lola’s room.
“I appreciate it, lolabug. They’re lucky to have you,” I say.
“Why are you going to Paris again?” Every few days, she asks the same question.
“I’m going to school to become a better painter,” I explain.
“Will they teach you to paint pictures that are pink?” Her eyes light up with excitement.
