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Which is why, when he dropped to one knee at the center of the Gapstow Bridge, I thought my whole world was about to change for the better.
That’s when I saw it. A shiny flash of metal.
My heart stopped. Both hands flew to my mouth, and I was barely able to contain an exhilarated “Yes!” from escaping my lips before Chad had a chance to pop the question.
But it wasn’t an engagement ring.
“Look! A lucky penny.” Chad pinched the small one-cent piece between his fingertips as if he’d found buried treasure.
Shame swept across my face, heating my cheeks more than the late afternoon sunlight. I tried to recover quickly, but traitorous tears pricked my eyes, threatening to reveal my humiliating miscalculation.
“What’s wrong?” he’d asked.
I’d rushed to assure him that nothing was wrong, but the waver in my voice gave me away.
“What is it?” he’d pressed. “Just tell me.”
I’d gathered the muggy air in one long, fortifying breath, telling myself that my blunder was humorous, a case of misplaced expectations that we could laugh about together.
But even now, over ten years later, I know there was nothing funny about that moment. And the heat of humiliation still burns in my chest. I force my eyes open, my gaze pinned on a sinewy crack in the plaster overhead, willing the images of that day into disjointed, cloudy images.
A hot tear slips from the corner of my eye, leaving a scalding trail along the side of my face before dampening the pillowcase.
Chad had stood, tucking the penny into his pocket as he leaned against the stone wall, waiting for me to explain. Sunlight had gleamed off his sandy-brown hair, making it appear golden against his tanned skin. He’d worn it longer then. Floppy, as my mother described it. The strands had fanned against his neck, giving him a perpetual boyish look. I used to love twisting my fingertips into the curled ends.
“It’s nothing,” I’d repeated, trying to sound casual. “I thought that maybe… when you got down on one knee and everything…” I’d trailed off, losing my nerve.
But he’d caught on, his eyes widening in shock. “You thought I was going to propose?” He sounded so astonished his reaction bordered on appalled.
I was instantly mortified.
“Sorry, Quincy,” he’d said hastily. “I didn’t mean to sound so surprised. I just… Well, I thought we were on the same page.”
“And what page is that?” I’d asked meekly, terrified of the answer.
“You know.” He’d dug both hands in his pockets, looking like he’d rather jump off the bridge than have this conversation. “That we’re just having fun. A temporary thing. I mean, you’re a great girl. But you’re not exactly the marriage type.”
“I—I’m not?” My throat had felt raw, as if the words had clawed their way out. I knew I wasn’t the obvious choice for someone’s wife. I couldn’t cook to save my life and was admittedly hopeless when it came to anything domestic. I’d tried to fold one of those fitted sheets once, and nearly pulled a muscle. But this wasn’t the 1950s anymore. Surely he hadn’t ruled me out on that criteria alone.
“Look, Quincy.” He’d sighed so deeply, his shoulders had slumped forward, making him appear small and defeated for the first time since I’d known him. “My parents are divorced. I’ve seen what it does to a family. When I get married, I want it to be for the long haul. I’m talking about a forever kind of deal.”
I remember nodding vigorously, desperate to show him that I felt the same way. But it didn’t matter. Not when he’d said what came next.
“Marriage takes work,” he’d told me, as if I might not have realized that nuptial tidbit. “You can’t quit when it gets hard.” He’d met my gaze with a pained, almost apologetic look and said softly, “I care about you, Quincy. But you’re not long-term material.”
Although spoken with something akin to kindness, I’d felt like I’d been slapped across the face. My eyes had stung and watered, my breath escaped me. Every fiber in my being had ached. And yet, I didn’t have a comeback. Chad was right. I did quit everything I started, especially when things didn’t go my way. Did I really think I had what it took to make a marriage last a lifetime?
You’re the forever I’ve been waiting for.
Ethan’s words from earlier that evening found their way into the forefront of my mind.
Forever.
Ethan was willing to give up New York… Brynn, Wilson, everything he loved and cared about. For me. But what if Chad was right? What if I let Ethan uproot his entire life only to abandon him the second things got hard?
I don’t think I could live with myself.
Once, when I was working on an ad campaign for nicotine gum, I did some research on addiction. I remember reading that sometimes the most caring thing an addict can do for their loved ones is to extricate themselves from their lives until they get the help they need. Otherwise, you could risk dragging them down with you.
