Almost Perfect: A Frenemies to Lovers Romance

by Claudia Burgoa

  “You’re proposing,” I say, my lip quivering.

  “Good, this means I’m doing it right because you’re getting the concept.”

  I laugh, holding the tears. “But why, I mean…we’re a mess when we’re together.”

  He shakes his head. “You’re a beautiful mess. I’m in love with the brightness of your soul and those dark and twisty places you carry within you. I’m just a fucked-up guy who is in love with you. That’s us, you know. Maybe it’s time to stop trying to make sense of life. Just live it with me, accept I’m broken, and just give me your pieces, so I can hold them close to my heart.”

  I try to clear my tears because this is what he does. He’ll do something stupid and then chase the stars to make it up to me.

  “I hate you,” I say. “How can I be upset at you when you buy me the biggest bouquet of flowers I’ve ever seen? Or write me a letter where you tell me I’m your missing piece? It’s so not fair.”

  He laughs. “So all this time, when you say, I hate you, you meant I love you in your own messy way.”

  “No,” I state, exasperated and yet, laughing. “It’s true, you’re impulsive. And caring and bossy but loving. You make it impossible not to love you but—”

  “No buts,” he orders. “You love me, and I love you, too.”

  “You can’t uproot your life for me.”

  “I’d follow you to the end of the world, Hannah. What I did was stupid, I know. I’m not saying I won’t fuck up because, most times, I jump before I think. But please, marry me.”

  His voice is urgent, bordering on desperate. He pulls the ring out of the box, takes my hand, and says, “Please?”

  “I will,” I say, sniffing. “Of course, I want to marry you. There’s no one I’d rather spend my life with than you.”

  He slips the ring onto my finger, stands up, and pulls me into an embrace. His lips find mine, and I let him guide us into a deep, hot, searing kiss that heals the wounds of our last fight.

  Epilogue

  Hannah

  “Honey, I’m home,” I announce, shutting the door closed and taking off my shoes.

  Alex didn’t want to wait to move in with me. We found a house on Hunts Point, which is halfway to his shop and halfway to the magazine. Compromising was easy because the house is right by Lake Washington, and as a bonus, is close to my parents’ house. There’s plenty of room to build a greenhouse, and best of all, we have the room to grow—or receive my friends.

  We haven’t set a wedding date yet. For us, it’s not only about the ceremony, the paper, or the status. It’s about what feels right. Also, I want all my family with me. For now, I want to enjoy being Alex’s fiancée.

  As I make my way through the mud room, I spot a card on top of the bench. Next to it is a snickerdoodle and flower petals sprinkled around it.

  Eat me!

  (Cookies)

  I chuckle and take a bite of the cookie. I turn the card around because Alex loves leaving notes or letters around the house, in my car, and sometimes, I find them in my office. He’s sneaky, and I love it.

  Dear you,

  Happy First Kiss Anniversary!

  Your first day back to school might be your worst nightmare, but it’s the reminder that I found you.

  Love forever,

  Alex

  There’s a trail of flower petals on the floor, which I begin to follow. As I make my way through the house, I spot a glass of wine on the coffee table.

  Drink me!

  (Cabernet)

  As I turn the card over, I frown.

  Are you a parking ticket? ‘Cause you’ve got fine written all over you.

  A

  P.S. Your corny pick-up line of the year