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The women in my life are fierce. All of them. I’m a very lucky man.
Why did the scarecrow get a promotion?” Bingley quips. “He was outstanding in his field.”
“If life gives you melons, you’re probably dyslexic!”
“I hate Russian dolls,” Bingley says. “So full of themselves.”
“I couldn’t stand it, Bec. I wanted you to have someone and be happy. But I didn’t want to watch.”
“Bec, listen—I will apologize again and get the fuck out of your room. But for the love of god, help me understand—are you pissed off about the kiss? Or are you pissed that I stopped?” “That’s not an easy question!” Obviously. His handsome forehead wrinkles with confusion. “But it’s multiple choice!”
I wonder what our baby would look like if Rebecca and I had one. Then I want to slap myself. Also, what the fuck, brain?
“I’m sorry to ever distress you,” he whispers. “You mean a lot to me.”
“I’m used to being worked up over you. I was for years. Thought it was a permanent condition.” “Oh, Nate,”
“Rebecca. Sweetheart—” Sweetheart. “Will you marry me? I know it’s fast. But it isn’t, really. Seven years seems like plenty of time to figure out that you’re my favorite person in the world. And I don’t want to go another year without you.”
