I shrug. “Do what you want. It’s not like it’s any of my business anymore.”
“Noah.” Lily is gazing up at him with her usual hero worship. As far as she’s concerned, nothing has changed. She’s in for a rude awakening. “Guess what, Noah? I’ve got fifty chips! That means you’re getting me an ant farm, right? I’ve been waiting.”
He looks down at her, and he gets this incredibly sad look on his face. “Lily, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.”
“Well, she didn’t forget,” I say pointedly. “That’s what happens when you walk out.”
He rakes a hand through his hair. “Lily, I really need to talk to your mom right now.” He looks back up at me. “Please, Bailey.”
Finally, I sigh and turn on the television for Lily so she’ll be occupied. There’s a reasonable chance she’s going to end up listening at the door, but I have to take the risk. There’s no place to get complete privacy around here.
But as soon as Noah and I are alone in the bedroom, any resolve I have to be strong around him vanishes. This is Noah—the great romance of my life. My eternal hero. He carried all my boxes up for me on the first day of college. He saved me from getting date raped. He took my virginity and gave me my first orgasm. He got down on one knee in his cap and gown when he was only twenty-one years old and asked me to spend the rest of my life with him.
“Bailey, listen to me.” His blue eyes are wide. It makes me remember the first day I met him, when he heaved that box out of my arms and I could see those eyes staring straight at me. I fell a little in love that day. “I fucked up, okay? That day at Lily’s recital… it messed with my head. I saw how happy Lily was to have her dad there, and I felt like I was the only thing getting in the way of your happy family.”
I snort. “Happy family? Are you for real? I told you what Theo was like when we were together.”
“Right, but…” He squeezes his hands together. “He’s changed, hasn’t he? Got a job. Started showing up for Lily—”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say before he can finish. “It’s too late. Me and him… we’re over. For good.”
“Is that really true?” He squints at me. “I saw the way you looked at him when he shaved his head. And Lily said you told him it looked good.”
I stare at him with my mouth hanging open. “Is that really what you think of me? After all these years, Theo just shaves his head and I come running? Do you really think I’m that shallow?”
Noah sinks down onto the bed. He rubs his prosthetic knees, his eyes downcast. “No…”
My chest aches. Noah never talks about it, but of course, there’s a part of him that must be hurting from our first broken engagement. He asked me to marry him, I accepted, and then I ended up returning the ring soon after he lost his legs. I regretted that decision every day of my life—I still regret it. It’s a decision I can never undo.
“Listen to me, Noah.” I sit down next to him on the bed. “I’m never going to change my mind about wanting to marry you. When you make a mistake that colossal once, you never, ever want to make it again.”
He lifts his eyes. “You and Lily just seemed so happy when Theo was there at the recital. Nobody even wanted me there. I was the fourth wheel.”
“You know,” I say, “cars can’t drive without four wheels.”
“You know what I mean.” He chews on his lip. “You three were the family. I wasn’t part of it.”
“Are you kidding me? Lily nearly had a breakdown when she found out you’d left halfway through.”
“Not really.”
“Oh yes, really.”
He frowns at me for a moment as he lets this piece of information sink in. “Jesus.” He lowers his head. “I’m so fucking sorry, Bailey.”
I look away. I want to accept his apology, but the hurt is still there. Telling me he’s sorry doesn’t take it away.
“Please, Bailey.” His brows knit together. “You’ve got to know… I wasn’t thinking straight. When Lily seemed so attached to Theo, it messed with me. I never got to have a mom and dad at home—not really. It’s something I always wanted.”
“I know,” I murmur. As hard as it was losing my mother, at least I got to have her through my whole childhood. My parents were wonderful when I was young. I was lucky.
“I just wanted you both to be happy,” he says. “I didn’t want to take that perfect childhood away from Lily. I thought I was doing something good for you guys by leaving. But…”
I squint at him. “But what?”
“But…” He scratches at his dark blond hair, which is already tousled from the wind outside. “I think I could make you happier than anyone else in the world could.”
“Oh, you think so?”
He runs his finger along the line of my jaw. “I know so, actually.”
For the first time since he showed up at the door, I allow myself a smile. “Well, of course you could. That’s what I’ve been telling you, dummy.”
His fingers linger for a moment and I’m hoping he’ll bring me in for a kiss, but instead, he suddenly yawns. He pulls his hand away to rub his eyes with his fingers. “Sorry about that. I couldn’t sleep without you the last two nights. I’m a wreck.” He flashes a crooked smile. “Another week and I would have been dead.”
I slide closer to him. “Well, I guess you’ve got to stay here with me forever then.”
“Till death does us part.”
And this time he leans in and brings his lips onto mine. I get that nice tingling in my panties as I feel his warm tongue against mine. God, I missed this. Just a short time ago, I’d been worried I’d never have a kiss like this ever again.
When Noah finally pulls away, we’re both grinning like a couple of idiots. “You’ve still got the ring, right?” he asks. “You didn’t hock it or anything.”
“Not yet.” I squeeze his hand back. “I had a feeling you might come crawling back.”
His smile widens, although I wouldn’t have thought it possible. “I have to warn you of something though, Bailey.”
“Yes?”
“If we get back together…”
I raise my eyebrows.
“I’m going to buy Lily that ant farm.”
I put my arms around his neck, bringing him close to me. “Totally worth it.”
Epilogue: Noah
Two Months Later
Twelve years ago, I got down on one knee in my dorm room and asked Bailey Chapin to be my wife. I felt like a kid back then. I wasn’t ready to get married, but I couldn’t imagine being with anyone but Bailey, so when she told me she wouldn’t move to New York with me without a ring, I had to do some soul-searching. Ultimately, I decided I couldn’t live my life without her. Whatever it took to keep her in my life, I was willing to do it.
Now, twelve years later, we’re at City Hall, waiting for the judge to call us in.
Bailey isn’t wearing white because… well, obviously. But her rose-colored dress is really sexy. If we’d gotten married back when we originally intended, we would have made it a big event, I’m sure. We expected both of Bailey’s parents would be there, a bunch of grandparents, then there would be our extended families and all our friends from college and my buddies from med school and it would have been out of control.
But today, Bailey’s mother is no longer with us. The last of my grandparents passed over the winter after a bout of pneumonia, and all of Bailey’s grandparents are gone too. But we have Lily with us, who would certainly not have been there the first time around. And one more person I would never have expected would be at my wedding.
Bailey reaches for my hand. “Nervous?”
“No.”
“You’re shaking.”
“So are you.”
“Well.” She grins at me. “I don’t get married every day, do I?”
“More than me. You get married twice as often as I do.”
I wish I were Bailey’s first. I wish she hadn’t married some other guy first and now I’ll always be h
er second husband. I hate that. But at least she’s my first and hopefully only.
Lily twirls around in the middle of the hallway. I thought the dress she wore to my mother’s wedding last year was frilly, but the frills in this one put that one to shame. It’s also pink. Bailey’s dress is technically pink, but Lily’s dress is really pink. It’s almost hard to look at.
“When are you guys getting married already?” she whines.
“We’re next,” Bailey says.
“It’s… so… long!” Lily sighs.
We have been sitting here exactly five minutes. But I’ve noticed Lily doesn’t have a great sense of time.
Although one thing she does have is a giant ant farm. Bailey actually shrieked when she saw it. I may have gone a little overboard on the size. But hey, this could be Lily’s future career. I didn’t want to half-ass it.
I felt awful when Bailey told me how upset Lily was when I left. I sat down with her and told her how sorry I was, and that I’d never, ever do anything like that again. I promised. More than once.
Are we still going to play with the ant farm together after you and Mommy have a baby? Lily asked me.
I got an ache in my chest. I couldn’t believe she thought about stuff like that. Of course we will, Lil. It’s not like the baby will be able to play with the ant farm, so I’ll need you!
It made her feel better about it. And it’s a good thing because Bailey told me this morning that her period is two days late. She hasn’t taken a pregnancy test yet because she didn’t want it to overshadow the wedding, but… somehow I’ve got a feeling. I warned her when she took those antibiotics for her sinus infection, we needed to use another form of birth control. Or at least, I meant to warn her.
She might be pregnant. Bailey might have a baby inside her.
As if I needed something to make me more nervous.
The judge marrying us is a woman in her sixties with hair tied into a sensible bun. I grab my cane when I follow her into the makeshift chapel, but I don’t intend to hold it during the ceremony. My pain is much better since I got the new socket, but I’ve still been taking it easy and using a cane whenever I’m on my feet (except during my ER shifts, when it would be a huge liability). I’ve accepted this is the way it’s going to be for the rest of my life.
Along with Lily, Bailey’s father and my mother follow us into the chapel. And one other person: my father. I debated a long time about whether or not I should invite him, and it was my mother who finally talked me into it. And now… I’m glad he’s here. He dressed up in a suit that looks like it could be older than I am, and he’s carefully combed the little hair he’s got left on his head.
“I’m really proud of you, son,” he says to me as we walk into the chapel.
“Thanks, Dad,” I say.
We’ll never be as close as we might have been if he hadn’t disappeared on us all those years ago—if he’d been the father he should have been. But I’ve made peace with a lot of it. I need to put that behind me, especially now that I’m about to become a father myself. To Lily, but also possibly to another child. We won’t know till we take the pregnancy test tomorrow. Not tonight, because Lily is spending the night at our parents’ apartment and we’ve got the place to ourselves. No distractions. Just us.
The judge smiles at the two of us. My hands are still shaking when she tells us to join hands, but Bailey’s soft fingers in mine calm me down. This is the day I’ve been waiting for since the moment I met her.
“Bailey,” the judge says, “do you take Noah to be your husband?”
She smiles shyly at me. “I do.”
“Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect him, forsaking all others and holding only unto him?”
“I do.”
Well, that’s a relief.
“Noah.” The judge faces me. My heart is thudding soundly in my chest. “Do you take Bailey to be your wife?”
Hell yes. “I do.”
“Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect her, forsaking all others and holding only unto her?”
“I do.”
Bailey squeezes my fingers. This is it. This is the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. This is the woman I’m going to grow old with, share children with, and eventually grandchildren. My life may not have come out exactly as I imagined it would, but this part… this part is exactly as I want it to be. And now I’m going to dedicate myself to giving us a happy life together.
I will be the perfect husband for Bailey.
THE END
Dear readers,
Every time I write a book, I brainstorm on what to say to get readers to write reviews. I think to myself, “If I were reading a book, what would get me to review it?” And I always come up with ideas, but nothing really works.
After a recent book I wrote came out, I asked an advance reader (she was an author herself) to put up a review. She told me she loved the book and absolutely would. Two days later, I sent her a gentle reminder, and she wrote back:
“PESTERING ME WON’T HELP. I’LL DO IT WHEN I DO IT.”
And she didn’t respond to my apology. And she never wrote a review. Or ever spoke to me again.
For this reason and many similar reasons, I am hesitant to ask for reviews. I don’t want to lose readers and anger people by asking. So I will ask once:
Please.
Just to make things easy, the site on Amazon is here: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07MV15TF3/ . And as always, I would love to hear from you at [email protected].
Thank you once again to all my readers!
Annabelle Costa
P.S. Keep reading for a new book excerpt after the acknowledgments!
Acknowledgments
Recent events in my life have made me realize how lucky I am to have people who are constantly willing to give me constructive feedback on my books. It’s sort of incredible. I write a book, and I say to someone, “Please read this.” And they do. It’s amazing.
First, I want to thank Avery Kingston. You have been beyond an amazing friend to me in the last year, and I honestly can’t thank you enough for that and all the help you’ve given me. Thank you to J. Saman, one of my first online writer friends, for being an eternal source of no-nonsense feedback and support. And thank you to Geralyn Corcillo for your endless enthusiasm.
Also, thanks to my real Lily and Noah for not buying that ant farm after all. I know the ants can’t survive indefinitely without the queen, but what if they find a new queen? And even if they do all eventually die, worker ants live up to three years. Three years of ants all over my freaking house. Anyway, the roly poly farm isn’t nearly as bad.
Now turn the page for an excerpt from my book, How the Grinch Stole My Heart…
How the Grinch Stole My Heart
Jeremy
Thump.
I close my eyes, trying to shut out the sound of a ball hitting the wall just outside my apartment. It’s the second time in two days. The second goddamn time.
Thump. Thump.
I feel a seedling of a headache starting in my left temple. I open my eyes and stare at the computer screen in front of me, filled with code. If I get a migraine, there’s no way I’ll be able to get any work done. I’ll be lucky if I can get out of bed.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
I grit my teeth. I know it’s a lot to expect absolute silence at three o’clock in the afternoon on a Sunday, but there’s something about that sound that gets me. The fact that it’s not quite rhythmic. The way sometimes there’s a gap in the thumps and I think it’s finally stopped, but nope, there it is again.
I know who’s doing it. It’s that kid. That goddamn kid. I don’t know his name, but his family moved here a couple of months ago, and ever since winter hit for real, he’s been playing out in the hall with his rubber ball. He throws it against the wall as hard as he can, then he catches it. You’d think he’d get bored of it eventually, but he never does. He never. Fucking. Does.
Thump. Thump.
I don’t want to be the asshole who yells at a little kid for tossing a ball around in the hallway. I don’t want to be that guy. Nobody likes that guy. Remember Dennis the Menace and his grouchy old neighbor, Mr. Wilson? Dennis the Menace was always messing up Mr. Wilson’s lawn or knocking down half his house or pulling down his pants to reveal polka dot boxers, but somehow Dennis was still the hero. Did anyone root for Mr. Wilson? No, nobody did.
I don’t want to be Mr. Wilson. I don’t. I’m just really sick of the sound of that goddamn ball. I’m not going to be able to pay my rent if the kid keeps it up.
Thump! Thump!
To hell with it. I’m going to say something. Maybe the kid can go throw a ball on the floor above or below. Or anywhere else besides right outside my door.
I take a breath, steeling myself for the effort it will take to stand up. I reach with my left hand for the forearm crutch I always keep leaning against my desk when I work. I lace my left arm through the metal loops, then slowly haul myself to my feet like I have hundreds of times before. I have a false start, where it seems like I’ll fall right back into my chair, but I don’t.
I’ve gotten good at this over the last several years. I barely remember a time when standing up from a chair didn’t involve any effort at all. It feels like that was a whole other life.
I guess it sort of was.
I limp in the direction of the door. I keep the path from my desk to the door cleared of dirty clothes, rugs, or other paraphernalia that can and will trip me up. It’s about twenty feet from the desk to the door, but it takes me a good minute to traverse. My left leg does fine, but my right drags along behind me like dead weight, even with the plastic brace I’ve got supporting my ankle. It goes without saying I don’t go on any long hikes these days.
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