Eleven Eleven

by Micalea Smeltzer

11:11 I close my eyes and make a wish. I wish for this move to be the right thing.

This is the beginning of my new life. The biggest risk I’ve ever taken. I left behind a high-paying job and my friends and family for a future filled with uncertainty. Even so, this feels like the right decision. This is where I belong. At least for now.

That makes him eleven years younger than me. Ironic. That it’s my lucky number.

“I’m thirty-two,” I blurt out. He puts his free hand over his heart. “Thank God, we’re both legal.” A stunned laugh escapes me. “That doesn’t bother you? That I’m older than you?” “No.” There isn’t an ounce of hesitation in his response. “Does it bother you that I’m younger?”

“Come on, Via, what do you say?” He leans in, his mouth pressed to my ear. “Don’t overthink it. Everything is temporary anyway. Me. You. The stars in the sky. We’re all just a blip. Take the risk. I’m worth your while.”

“Because you were sitting there with this lonely look in your eyes.” He brushes a thumb along my jawline. “I wanted to be the reason you didn’t feel that way anymore.”

“This doesn’t have to be a big deal.” He leans in and presses a gentle kiss below my ear. “Night, Via.” He pulls back, but with an “oh,” he quickly ducks close again and brings his lips to my ear. “I can fuck you better than my dad ever could.”

“Unknowingly or not, I want to mark you so you remember which Crawford you belong to.”

“How good it is? How your pussy was made for me? I’m going to ruin you, Via, the same way you’ve ruined me. No man is ever going to make you feel this good. Not the way I can.”

“And I’m telling you not to worry about it. Let me take care of you.” Those words, let me take care of you, and his firm yet benevolent tone, send a host of butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Have I ever truly been cared for in that way? Maybe in the beginning of my relationship with Chase, but not for a long time. We were always so busy with work. It didn’t leave much time for niceties like this.

“You can talk about him. I don’t mind. He’s in your past, and I fully plan on being your future.”

“Because I don’t want to have to tell our future kids that I fucked their mom on the first date.”

“If sticking up for myself makes me a bitch, then so be it.”

“I’m not sure if I believe in destiny either,” she admits, her cheeks pink from the brisk cold. “But since I was a little girl, I’ve done this thing. Where I wish on elevens. When the clock turns to 11:11, it’s like a sign. Angel numbers,” she goes on. “The night I came to Parkerville, I wished on 11:11 that this move would be the right thing. I think that wish came true when I met you.”

Call it kismet, fate, whatever you want, but our paths were meant to cross in that bar on his birthday. Did I expect to fall in love with him when I went home with him that night? Absolutely not. But the universe knew before I did that Reid is exactly what I need.

“It’s 11:11.” He nods at the clock hanging above the doorway that leads to my office. “Make a wish.” I can’t fight my smile. “I don’t need to.” “Why?” “Because,” I look around at my store, at my new friends and neighbors, my sister, and, most importantly, him, “I already have everything I’ve ever wanted and more.”

All those wishes on elevens? They made me the luckiest woman alive.