When Fates Align

by Isabelle Richards

  I unfold the paper and gasp. My man can draw.

  “That man loves you so much,” Em says. “He doesn’t see the crow’s feet developing around your eyes or the sun spots you’re getting on your cheek. When I look at this drawing, I can feel how much he adores you. I sure hope you don’t take it for granted.”

  “Gee thanks for pointing all those things out. You’re a real peach. And of course I don’t take him for granted.” I bring the bottle to my lips and pause. Do I take him for granted?

  My mind goes to Carly and Mitch, and I think about how I would have reacted if Gavin had been paralyzed after he was shot. Of course I’d stand by his side and my love would never waver. That’s what you do when you’re in love. I smile as I remember when my father broke both legs in a skiing accident. He was a bear to live with, but my mother doted on him. My parents were always that sappily in love couple, but it was even more nauseating after my father’s accident.

  Then out of nowhere, the penny drops. My hand covers my mouth as I gasp. “Oh my God, I’m a fool.” I stand and brush off my bottom, then take off back toward the bonfire.

  “Where are you going?” she asks.

  “To fix a colossal mistake,” I yell over my shoulder.

  When I get to the crowd, I look everywhere for Gavin. I finally find him sitting with James by the water.

  “Hey, guys,” I say between panted breaths.

  James looks at me then looks at Gavin and stands. “I’ve got to see a man about a horse,” he says then scurries off.

  Gavin hands me his bottle of water. “You okay, luv?”

  I shake my head as I gulp down some water. “No? Yes? Both?”

  He furrows his brow in concern. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?” He winces. “Eat too much? I told you not to go back for a third round.” He points at the house. “Would you like me to fetch you a ginger ale?”

  I push his good shoulder. “No! That’s not it. I just realized I’m an idiot.”

  “About what, luv?”

  Not wanting to be gasping for air when I say this, I hold up a finger and catch my breath.

  He rubs my back. “Take your time.”

  My heart pounds, not out of nerves but out of sheer excitement. I feel as if all the things wrong in my life suddenly became so clear. Now that I know how to fix it, I don’t want to waste another second. When you realize what you want out of life, you don’t want to wait to get it. You want the rest of your life to start right away.

  “Marry me,” I blurt.

  He looks at me as if I’m crazy. “What?”

  I smile so big my cheeks hurts. “You heard me. Marry me.”

  Disappointment flashes across his face as he looks down, avoiding my gaze. That isn’t the reaction I was expecting.

  He traces patterns in the sand with his finger. “We’ve been over this. You don’t want to get married, and I don’t want you to do it simply because I do. That will never work.”

  The hurt in his voice cuts me like a knife, but I know this is my doing. I have to fight like hell to fix it. Grabbing his hands, I shake my head “I was wrong. I was so very wrong. I thought that marriage was only about contractual obligation, that when you get married, you make an investment in a future together that turns into a soul-sucking debt to each other that can never be fulfilled. I only saw marriage as a prison, trapped with no way out, and I didn’t want that for us.”

  “But you want it now?”

  “Yes,” I cheer as I throw my hands in the air. Finally he’s getting it.

  Biting his lip, he looks perplexed. I was expecting smiles and kissing, not lip-biting and awkward tension. Maybe he’s not getting it.

  “You want the soul-sucking prison trap?” he asks.

  Nope, not getting it at all! “No!” I run my fingers through my wind-snarled hair. “God, I suck at this.” I tap my fingers on my forehead as I try to find the words. “Look, if you haven’t noticed, I can be a little short-sighted. I usually only see the problem that’s right in front of me, and I try to fix it. I’m terrible at looking ahead to the future, and even worse at seeing the long-term impact of my choices. I just see a problem and fix it. When you asked me to marry you, I felt so good about us at that moment, I couldn’t imagine it ever getting better, so I didn’t want to mess with it. I’ve been so afraid that if we got married, we’d turn into what I had with Ash, but what I just realized is that you and I could never be me and Ash. We’re better than that. Stronger than that. I would change your diapers!”

  He looks horrified. “You what? If that’s some weird new sexual thing you’re into… I-I-I don’t know. I know we haven’t been able to be together much because of my shoulder, but… infantilism? Lil, that’s really out there.”

  “NO!” I scream. “That’s… just eww. And it couldn’t be further from the point I’m trying to make. What I’m trying to say is that it never occurred to me that one day I might want more, for reasons I’d never even begun to consider. I never stopped to think about how I would feel when you got shot and the doctor wouldn’t talk to me because I wasn’t your wife. Not that anyone could have anticipated that, but now I’m realizing I have to. For the first time ever, I’m not trying to clean up my past. I have time to look to the future, and I realize, I want more.”

  “But you said we don’t need a piece of paper, what we have is enough,” he says. “You don’t feel that way anymore? If this is just about what happened at the hospital, I can sign papers to give doctors authorization to speak to you. We don’t need to get married just for that.” He crosses his arms.

  The more I speak, the more frustrated he looks. Man, I’m royally fucking this up. I ran over here hoping to start the rest of my life, but if I don’t dig myself out of this hole, I’m going to end up pushing him away. Only I could shoot for a proposal and end up in a huge fight.

  “It’s far more than that,” I say. “I was just too cynical to see it. When I’m not with you, my whole world is tilted and upside down. I lose sight of who I am. When I’m with you, you push me to be the best version of myself. You love me and support me, even when I want to fight dragons with chopsticks. You rub my tummy when I overeat, and you make me laugh until I cry. You know what I need long before I’m smart enough to realize it. But I don’t want to marry you for any of those reasons.”

  He looks more confused than ever. “You don’t?”

  A lump forms in my throat. “I want to marry you because I would die for the opportunity to be all those things for you. To live each and every day trying to make you happy. To be the one who makes you smile every morning and gets you soup when you’re sick, who stands by your side at all your ridiculous fancy parties I hate going to.”

  He finally smiles. “Don’t lie. You love going because you like getting new dresses.”

  I sigh and wipe a tear from my eye. “Yeah, I like the dresses. But you’re getting me off topic. When we go to those parties, I want you to be able to introduce me as your wife and not a girlfriend, because we both know the moment we walk away, they wonder how long I’ll last. I want everyone to know that I’m here forever and they should stop plotting how they’ll set you up with their daughter or sister or niece or whatever.”

  The tension melts from his shoulders as he tips his head back and laughs.

  Now that he’s relaxing a bit, I thread my fingers through his. “You know it’s true.”

  “It might be,” he says with a smirk.

  “I will be here forever, but saying that isn’t enough for me anymore. I want to have so many children and grandchildren they’ll need to wear name tags for me to keep them all straight. I want to give those children a home like my parents gave me, with two parents who wake up each morning thanking God they have each other. I want to show them that marriage isn’t a contractual obligation but an honor and privilege so that they don’t make the same mistakes we did and marry the wrong people for the wrong reasons. I want to hold your hand when you’re ninety-five and can’t remember who I a
m, and I want force you to fall in love with me all over again. I want to marry you so that I can work each and every day at making you as happy as you’ve made me.” I drop to my knees in front of him. “So say yes. Say that you’ll be mine today, tomorrow, and forever.”

  He looks at me then cups my face. “Lily Elizabeth Clark, it would be my honor and privilege to marry you.”

  The moment his lips touch mine, I know I’ve made the right decision. These are the lips I want to kiss every day for the rest of my life.

  He scoops me up.

  “Gavin, your shoulder!” I want to squirm out of his arms, but I worry I’ll end up hurting him.

  “Fuck my shoulder,” he says with the biggest grin. He carries me back toward the house, and as we walk past the bonfire, he shouts, “We’ll be otherwise occupied for the rest of the time you’re here. I’m sure you can keep yourselves amused. Don’t bother knocking—we won’t answer. I’ll be properly shagging my fiancée.”

  “It’s about damn time,” Em calls. “Worst proposal in the history of proposals, but it’s about damn time.”

  Epilogue

  Emily

  I only have twenty minutes to shop and leave to catch my flight. Thankfully Harrods knows me. I swear a sensor goes off when I enter this place. No matter how discreet I try to be, the vultures swarm. But in this case, I’m happy for it, because I have a lot to buy and not a lot of time to buy it.

  “I’ll take four sets of the D. Porthault towels and two sets of the Charlotte Thomas sheets.” I tap my chin. “Both of them in lilac, please.”

  “Would you like the blankets that match the sheet sets, Ms. Harrington?” the overeager Harrods’ clerk asks. “The blankets are violet.”

  “Hmm.” I think for a moment. “Oh, why not. Throw them in, along with four of those Mongolian goose down pillows.”

  “Yes, miss. I’ll get them straight away.”

  I fish the card and a pen out of my purse. “You can have these delivered today?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Excellent,” I reply. “I’d like this card attached to the packages.” Taking the cap off my pen, I scribble a quick note.

  Dear Lily and Gavin,

  The wedding was fantastic. You’re welcome, by the way. When you said I only had ninety days to plan a wedding or you would elope, I didn’t know if I had the skills to pull it off. But I did. People will be talking about your wedding until Harry gets married.

  I adore your new flat and everything you’ve done with it! However, if you ever expect me to stay with you rather than at the Mandarin, you need an upgrade on your linens. I can tolerate the lack of masseuse and twenty-four-hour room service, but the sheets and towels must be up to par.

  So much love I think my heart may burst,

  Em

  I slide the card into the envelope, apply the gold seal, and write their address on the front.

  Mr. and Mrs. Gavin Edwards

  Duchess of Bedford's Walk

  Kensington, London W8 7QQ

  The End

  If you liked Lily and Gavin, you will love Chase and Ari!

  Keep reading for a special sneak peak at

  Hate to Love You

  Releasing September 10, 2015

  Available for pre-order now on Amazon

  Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.

  Damn! A freaking scuff on my Manolos. When a pair of shoes costs three grand, they should come with some sort of scuff protection. I think I’d pay ten grand for shoes with that guarantee.

  Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.

  Who the hell is this sofa designed for? My feet can barely reach the ground, and I’m 5’8”, most of it in my legs. I thought these places were supposed to make you comfortable. I can’t relax on this couch. It just makes me want to get out of here even faster.

  Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

  I’ve never noticed how loud a clock can be when you’re sitting in tortured silence. I can’t take this much longer.

  “So how does this work, exactly?” I ask, breaking the insufferable tension. “We’ve been staring at each other for the past twenty minutes. You’ve got a pretty sweet gig here if all you do is look at people in awkward silence all day.”

  Dr. Clawson smiles as she leans back in her beige overstuffed arm chair. “Arianna, you’re supposed to start. Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?”

  I shrug, looking down at the tips of my blond hair. Damn, I need a trim. “Nothing at all. I don’t have anything to share. I’m still not sure I see the point in this. No offense to your profession, but I’ve never found value in therapy. I know many people swear by it, but I don’t think I’m a good candidate. I have everything in my life under control.”

  “Okay, why don’t you tell me why you’re here then?” she asks.

  She holds a legal pad and pen, which makes me uncomfortable. I have no desire to share anything with her, let alone have her mark it down for the record. Nothing about her posture or presence is warming me up to bare my deepest, darkest secrets.

  I take a sip of my water and place it on the table next to me. “Why am I here? I was completely opposed to the idea of therapy, but my fiancé’s mother demanded I see someone. She and Henrik are both convinced I’m stressed, and they wouldn’t stop badgering me until I made an appointment. So, here I am.”

  “Are you stressed?” the psychologist asks.

  I run my fingers along the stitching of her bright red leather sofa. “Well, sure. Who isn’t stressed? I’m engaged, which comes with its own issues…”

  “Weddings are often stressful. Are your parents supportive?” she asks.

  “Yes, of course. The planning has been slow going, but Daddy’s great about it.” I smile condescendingly at her. “My mother passed away when I was young, but you probably know that already.”

  “Your mother’s passing was a highly publicized event. That must have been difficult for you.”

  I wave my finger back and forth and cluck my tongue. “My parents are not up for discussion. My mother’s death has been reported ad nauseam. We both know you know the details. If you don’t, feel free to google it when I leave. Regardless, we don’t need to dredge it up.”

  “Both your parents are very public personalities, which has put you in the public spotlight your whole life. That must have been very challenging.”

  I sit up straighter and push my shoulders back. “That isn’t why I’m here. Let’s just stay on track, shall we? My father is amazing. In fact, my whole family is amazing. I have no complaints. They are not the cause of my stress.”

  She holds up her pen as though she’s ready to start taking notes. “Do you have brothers or sisters?”

  As if she doesn’t already know. Why must she keep up this pretense that she doesn’t know mundane details about me already?

  “No, I’m an only child. When I say family, I include the Brennans. They’re like my extended family. When my mother died, my father’s best friend and his wife jumped in to help raise me. They’re like my surrogate parents. My best friend, Charlotte, is their daughter. I practically lived at their house growing up.” Dr. Clawson looks at me, perplexed. “Are they causing trouble with the wedding plans?”

  “No, they’re supportive. I’d be lost without them. Well, almost all of them.”

  She cocks her head to the side. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Charlie has a twin brother, Chase. We have a cantankerous relationship. It isn’t important. He’s not worth the breath it takes to talk about him.” Just the thought of him tightens the knots forming in my back.

  “Hmmm. How are things with your fiancé?” she asks.

  I avoid her uncomfortable stare by focusing on my nails. I really need a manicure. “Henrik? Henrik and I are great.”

  She makes notes on that blasted pad. “That’s good,” she says, not looking up. “Do you feel you have a strong relationship?”

  “Haven’t you seen Sports Illustrated? We’re the greatest sports couple
since my parents. I think I saw it in your waiting room if you want to read up on us.”

  She looks up from her pad and smirks. “But do you feel you have a strong relationship? Communication? Support? Trust?”

  I smooth an invisible wrinkle on my skirt. “Henrik and I are a strong match.”

  “Hmmm,” she says, scribbling away.

  Would it be inappropriate to stab her with that pen? “What does ‘hmmm’ mean?”

  She finally puts down the legal pad. “Where do you feel your stress is coming from?”

  “Life is stressful,” I quip.

  “Arianna, I’m not the enemy. I’m not here to gather gossip, and I’m not going to judge you. Your fiancé said that you’re not eating or sleeping well. He said this is very uncharacteristic of you. Whatever you say in this room stays here. You can either make the most of your time with me and open up, or we can listen to the clock. The choice is entirely yours.”

  While listening to the clock is tempting, if I’m going to pay five hundred dollars an hour, I might as well participate. I cross my legs and try to release the tension in my body. “I recently returned home after being abroad for two years. Coming back has stirred up a lot of issues that I thought were resolved. I’m confident they’ll settle down and everything will get back on track.”

  “What sort of issues?”

  I take a long sip of water. “As I’m sure you know, I’ve had some major life changes during the last two years. I thought my life had evolved and I’d left behind unsavory aspects of my past, but since I returned home, I’ve started thinking I haven’t really moved on at all.”