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“Okay.”
After Brad leaves, I take a couple of ibuprofen before I settle down with my homework. I wasn’t lying when I said I had to get it done. Technically, it isn’t due until the end of the week, but I also needed time to think about what happened.
Brad has never given me any indication that he has a temper. We’ve been together for six months, and he’s never even raised his voice. Add to that that he didn’t put up a fight when I asked him to leave and was very remorseful, and I’m confused.
Maybe it really was an accident. Tempers were high, and he’s a lot bigger. He probably didn’t realize his own strength.
My phone pings, knocking me out of my stupor.
Brad: Are you okay?? I really am sorry. It was an accident.
Me: I’m fine. I’m gonna do some homework and call it a day.
Brad: Okay, call me if you need anything.
Brad: I love you
Me: Love you
Throughout the rest of the week, flowers are delivered daily after school with sincere apologies on every card. Our schedules are so hectic that we only exchange a few text messages, but we do make plans to have dinner at my house on Friday.
Brad arrives right on time, and he’s holding the most gorgeous roses I’ve ever seen.
“Oh, wow!” I exclaim as I take them from him. “These are beautiful.”
“I want you to know how sorry I am for hurting you,” he states.
“I know you are, but you’re going to go broke buying me flowers.” I smile. “One bouquet would’ve been enough.”
I close the door behind him and go to the kitchen to find another vase. Brad follows closely on my heels.
“Are you mocking me?” he asks.
“Why would I be mocking you?”
“You’re going to go broke buying me flowers,”he repeats sarcastically. “One bouquet would’ve been enough.”
“I appreciate the flowers. They’ve all been beautiful.” I shift on my feet. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep buying them though just to say you’re sorry.”
“So, what?” he growls. “I have to keep apologizing over and over again instead? You want the words? Fine. I’m. Sorry.”
“Brad, no.” I shake my head. “I know you’re sorry. All I meant was that you don’t have to keep apologizing for last week. It’s over. I’m not upset about it.”
“I’m sorry,” he blows out. “It’s been a stressful week at work, and I’m taking it out on you. Forgive me?”
He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close. I search his eyes and see the sincerity in them. Rising to my tiptoes, I pull his head down and brush my lips against his. Brad cups my cheeks and kisses me until we’re both breathless. Then he steps away from me.
“Want to talk about it?” I ask.
“No.” His answer is firm. “I want to talk about the wedding.”
I blow out a breath. I thought about how this conversation could go all week and what I wanted to say.
“Why don’t we sit down?” I gesture over to the couch. Once we’re both sitting, I continue. “I don’t like the idea of the wedding being televised. I want it to be a private affair for only our family and friends.”
“Babe, the weddingnightis a private affair,” he says crassly. “I want to show everyone how lucky I am to be marrying the most beautiful woman in the world.”
My skin tingles with goosebumps at his words, but I stand firm. “I hate being in the spotlight.”
