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Now we have to make a concerted effort to spend time together around our work schedules. I have to put up with her nagging me about my lack of cleanliness at her apartment, and she has to listen to me drone on about sports games. I try my best to support her at the end of one of her very long days, where she comes home and cries because one of her students was taken out of an abusive home, or another hasn’t shown up to school in a week. Molly shows me that she’s the very best of humanity each and every day, and I often feel I don’t measure up.
“Maybe we’ll have us one of these soon.” My tone is sly. Molly doesn’t catch on to what I’m saying. “What, a rooftop? Hate to break it to you, buddy, but I’m not really an Upper East Side kind of girl.”
“This is Tribeca, definitely not the Upper East Side. Regardless, I wasn’t talking about the area we live in. I’ll live wherever you want, as long as it’s not New Jersey,” I tease her,...
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“But no, I’m not talking about apartments. I’m talking about an engagement party.”
“Please tell me you’re not proposing at someone else’s engagement party.” My palm presses to her cheek. “What kind of romantic would I be if I did that? No, I’m not asking you here. But I will be asking you. I just wanted you to know that.”
“Smith, we’ve only been dating for a month.” Molly gives a slight shake of her head. “So? I knew within five seconds of meeting you that you’re the woman I want to marry. I love you, and you love me. What else is there to consider?”
“I’m going to be putting up with your split-second decision making my entire life, aren’t I?” She smiles....
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“Your nose is all pink.” Smith bends down to kiss it as I fish my keys from my purse.
He’s mentioned once or twice, a hundred times, that we should just move in together, and I admit that he’s starting to wear me down.
Smith isn’t just my boyfriend, he’s my best friend. He’s become my shoulder to lean on, the one I want to talk to whenever anything happens, and the person who makes me feel most comfortable.
Smith doesn’t seem to mind my flannel long johns, in fact, he tells me they’re cute.
“Smith, I am going to …” I’m about to tell him his toothbrush is going in the garbage, or maybe the toilet if I’m feeling particularly saucy, when I see something sparkle on the handle of it. “You’re going to what?” I hear his deep voice behind me, and when I look back, he’s leaning smugly against the doorjamb with his arms folded over his very sexy, very defined pecs.
He told me two months ago at Peter and Jacinda’s engagement party that he was going to ask me to marry him. I never thought it would be this soon. Sure, Smith is always saying or doing romantic things, it’s one of the things I get to love and have to myself that not many people know about him. But I thought he was crazy for saying he wanted to propose after we’d only been back together for a month. My heart stutters in my chest, because now I know I’m the crazy one. Because, for the life of me, I can’t think of any reason I should not marry this man. I know he’s about to ask, and while it
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“You told me a while back that you thought you’d be planning your wedding within the next year. And that stuck with me. Not because you were talking about another man, but because I wanted you to see, so desperately, that I was supposed to be the one you were marrying. I know you might think this is fast, that a lot of people might think that. But I’ve been in love with you for a long time—what seems like forever—and when I know what I want, I don’t wait. I love you, Molly. I promise, I will try for the rest of my life to make you happy, and I’ll always keep you safe. Marry me? Make me the
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Smith kneels in front of me, reaching around my body to take his toothbrush off the sink and hold it up to me. The diamond ring is cushioned in the grip of the turquoise handle, and I already feel the waterworks pouring down my cheeks.
I’m so glad, so freaking glad that I waited for this moment. That I didn’t try to push it with Justin, or go settling for a man that my heart wasn’t one hundred percent head over heels for. This is what they mean when they say true love, this right here. Having Smith be the only man to get down on one knee, ...
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“Yes. Yes! One hundred percent, yes.” I nod like a maniac, falling into his arms. He catches me, nearly dropping the toothbrush with the ring hung around...
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“We’re getting married.” I sob, so deliriously excited. Smith pulls back a little, enough so that he can slide the ring onto my left hand. “I can’t wait to make you Mrs. Redfield.” As I study the sparkling, gorgeous oval now adorning my ring finger, neither can I. “...
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“The only one you we’re ever supposed to plan,” Smith confirms, and cover...
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After that, we don’t talk for a good...
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“Can you blame a man? My soon-to-be wife drives me crazy. How can I keep away when we’ve done some very scandalous, secret things in these bedrooms?”
Finally, I open my eyes, and Smith’s are dazzling before me. “I can’t wait to marry you.”
“And I can’t wait until you’re my wife. I think we should practice for the wedding night. Right now
It seems surreal that tomorrow I’ll be walking down the aisle to the man I once thought hated my guts. Now, he’s going to be my husband, and I am so ridiculously in love with him that I would probably let him sleep in my room tonight, tradition be damned.
I just couldn’t stand to be away from him most times. And tomorrow afternoon, I officially would never have to be again.
