When she gave me a hard time about rescheduling yet again, I told her to go ahead and cancel the appointment altogether. Maybe I’d reschedule someday or maybe I wouldn’t. I’d revisit that after I had my college degree and a career that allowed me to sponsor a child in Africa. Those had always been my goals and would continue to be until I’d accomplished them.
It felt good to be true to myself…finally.
When I thought about it – I mean really thought about it, I’d been placing too much importance on that damn birthmark, just like I’d been focused far too much on the guy Chris used to be. Sure, it bothered me that his nickname had been Playboy and he hadn’t been the nicest person in the world, but so what? If he didn’t care about my momentary flip-outs, then I could look past his poor choices.
We’d both made mistakes. That wasn’t the important part; everyone messes up sometimes. It was what we did next that mattered most.
Our lives shape us. If I hadn’t been born with the birthmark and been mercilessly harassed, I never would have crossed paths with Chris. If he hadn’t been in the car accident, he wouldn’t have realized he needed to change the way he was living and the person he was. Maybe in some strange way, we need the tragedy in our lives to push us toward the triumphs.
It was one thing to think all that but quite another to be going on a date with Chris. I thought we’d burned that bridge long ago but thankfully, I was wrong.
We didn’t want to do much of anything other than spend time together. We decided to take a picnic lunch to a little park down the street from my house. It had lush grass, a modest wooden play structure for kids and lots of tall trees. Maybe it was a bit cool to be sitting outside eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches but I didn’t mind.
My infatuation kept me warm.
When Chris kissed me hello, my face began to burn. We exchanged a long, lingering look before walking down to the park, me carrying a blanket to sit on and Chris swinging a cooler full of food. As we walked, the backs of our hands brushed every so often.
“Is this good?” he asked when we were standing in the deserted park beneath a tall oak tree.
“Yes.” I spread the blanket out, bending over to smooth the wrinkles out. I blushed when I realized Chris was watching me. We sat down and both reached for the cooler at the same time, bumping hands.
Our eyes met.
Chris leaned toward me.
I didn’t shy away from his kiss, but when the hand that had been innocently resting on my shoulder began to slide lower, I stopped it.
“Let’s take it slow,” I told Chris with a twinge of regret. I would have loved to fool around with him right then and there, but I was nervous. Although I was learning to let go of the past, I didn’t want to rush things. I didn’t want to risk making any more missteps.
After we ate, Chris sprawled out on the blanket. I curled up beside him, my body tingling with urges I was forcing myself to shove aside. “I never thought I’d get to do this again,” he said as he gazed up at the fast-moving clouds.
I looked up. Some of the clouds were fluffy and white, like oversized, weightless marshmallows floating happily in the sky. Others were dark and ominous, fast-moving and angry-looking. I knew what those ones meant.
“They’re nice,” I agreed. “I hate to say it, but I think it might rain.”
His hand found its way into my hair and he mussed it up playfully. “I wasn’t talking about the sky. I was talking about being here like this with you. But for what it’s worth I think I just felt a raindrop land on my forehead.”
“Can’t anything ever just go according to plan?” I grumbled as the sky opened up on us.
“Where’s the fun in that?” he laughed as he took my hand, a sudden gust of wind whipping my hair around my shoulders. “Come on, let’s get out of here!”
We ran down the street hand in hand, engaged in an unspoken race and tumbling over one another. We were playful and uninhibited, both of us having let go of the burdens that weighed so heavily on us. For the first time in ages, I felt joyful. For the first time in ages, I had hope.
Despite our best attempts to hurry back to my place, we were thoroughly soaked by the time we got there. I unlocked the door and we dripped rainwater all over the entryway until there were puddles on the floor beneath us.
“Oops,” Chris said, surveying the mess. “I’ll go find some paper towels to clean this up.” He grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and lifted his arms up over his head as he spoke, slowly peeling the wet garment off.
I couldn’t help it. I stared. No, I ogled. I wanted to lick each and every water droplet off his broad, muscular chest and then move lower…
When he caught me looking at his bare chest appreciatively, Chris grinned. “If you don’t strip down you’re going to make an even bigger mess in here,” he advised me with a wink. Even as he spoke, he was kicking off his waterlogged shoes and unzipping his jeans.
Snapping out of my daze, I opened the entryway closet. Space was limited in the comfortable but cramped house, so it doubled as a linen closet. I pulled out a towel and tossed it at Chris even though he seemed to take no issue with walking around in his boxers. I quickly wrapped another towel around myself, not removing my clothes until it was covering me.
He wasn’t quite able to hide his disappointment.
“Do you ever use the fireplace?” he asked, eyeing the brick structure protruding from the far wall in the living room.
“Rarely,” I replied as I toweled off my dripping hair.
“A fire might be nice right about now,” he said, rubbing his hands together briskly. I knew how he felt. The temperature had dropped notably as soon as the sky had opened up and my own skin felt cold and clammy after being exposed to the elements.
“Well you’re in luck,” I told him. “It’s an electric fireplace.” I flipped a switch and it roared to life, its faux flames burning brightly. “I’m going to make us some hot chocolate to warm us up,” I added before I turned and walked into the kitchen.
As I waited for the kettle to boil, stirred in the syrup and added plenty of marshmallows, I kept sneaking glances at Chris in the next room. He was sprawled out on the couch with his eyes half shut, the corners of his mouth turned slightly upward in a small half-smile. He looked totally content. In that moment, I wanted to hug him.
I carried the mugs of frothy hot chocolate into the living room carefully, not wanting to spill. Chris heard me coming and sat up, rubbing his eyes. “I used to dream about that sound, you know,” he told me.
“What, the sound of a spoon clinking against a mug?”
“Nah, I meant the sound of your footsteps.”
“Mine specifically?”
“Yes.”
I handed him one of the mugs. “Careful,” I cautioned. “It’s hot.”
“Hot chocolate is well-named.”
“Oh, so your terrible sense of humor is still living in there,” I smirked as I stood next to the couch where he sat.
“If by terrible you mean incredibly witty and clever, then yes.” He grabbed a coaster from its home on the coffee table and set his mug down on it. Then he reached out for me. “Come here.”
Right as I nestled into Chris’s arms, a loud clap of thunder made me jump. He chuckled and tightened his grip around me, silently reassuring me that he’d always be my protector. His chin rested on top of my head and, for a moment, we just stared at the fireplace in silence.
“Is this weird for you?” I finally asked.
“It’s been a long time,” he replied. “It feels familiar and new all at once.”
“I know what you mean.”
His fingertips stroked my arm idly, the sensation pleasant and soothing on my skin. “Listen Michelle…back there at the park I wanted to give you something but we uh, kind of got interrupted.”
“Ooh, a present?”
“Yeah, you could say that.” He reached past me and grabbed his jeans from where he’d draped them over the back of the couch. He ext
racted something from the front pocket. Then he held his hand in front of my face and opened it to reveal a small gold ring with a tiny, perfect diamond on top.
My eyes widened. “Is that…is that real?” I asked, leaning in closer for a better look. I’d never had anything that wasn’t made of a cubic zirconia and cheap metal that made my skin turn a sickly shade of green.
“Uh huh, but don’t worry, I’m not proposing or anything,” Chris chuckled. “When the time comes, your engagement ring will be a hell of a lot flashier – if that’s what you want. I heard what you said about wanting to take things slow. Hopefully this isn’t too much, but…it’s a promise ring.”
Had he really just mentioned our future engagement? I was floored. Stunned, I barely managed to stammer, “You didn’t have to…”
“I want to,” he told me. “This is my promise to you that we’ll take as much time as you need but someday, when you’re ready? I want to marry you, Michelle. I’ll wait as long as it takes. I’ll spend my whole life waiting if I have to because I don’t want anyone else. I only want you.”
My hand shook a little as Chris slid the ring onto my finger. The diamond sparkled beautifully in the light cast from the fireplace. I could hardly believe it was mine. I could hardly believe he was mine.
Just then there was yet another loud crack of thunder. Chris and I peered out the living room window. The street was like a lake, with big chunks of hail pelting the pavement and rain violently pouring down. The wind whipped through the trees and the sky had grown dark. It was only the middle of the afternoon but it looked as black as midnight outside.
“It looks like we made it in just in time,” he commented.
As though right on cue, the power cut out, leaving us in complete darkness. It was almost spooky how quickly things had changed. Outside, the storm howled as Mother Nature waged an angry assault against the side of the house. “Well,” I remarked sarcastically, “I hope you’re not afraid of the dark.”
“Nice one.”
My eyes widened. “Oh God, Chris I wasn’t even thinking…” It was awful to think that for a while, this had been what Chris saw every day: darkness. It was what he feared he might never be able to push aside. And now, in true Michelle fashion, I’d gone and put my foot in my mouth yet again. I made a mental note to cut the people who blurted out stupid things about my birthmark some slack. Sometimes being tactful is easier said than done.
He chuckled. “Don’t feel bad. I have a warped sense of humor, remember? It was funny.” After a moment of silence, Chris’s hand found mine. “It kind of feels like old times,” he murmured, his words muffled by my damp hair.
“It does…it really does.” My fingers curled around his, making sure he couldn’t let go – not that I thought he would.
Chapter 25
Six months after that storm, the promise ring left my finger forever.
It happened on a Tuesday night. I’d enrolled in college courses for the winter semester and Chris picked me up after my evening Literature class. He looked good behind the wheel of his brand new 4x4 truck, like he was meant to drive it. I climbed into the passenger seat next to him and kissed him hello like always.
He seemed tense and I noticed he was gripping the steering wheel extra tightly. “Are the roads bad?” I asked, peering out through the windshield into the night. Tiny snowflakes drifted through the chilly winter air. “Is it icy?”
“No, the roads are fine.”
“You missed your turn,” I noted as he bypassed the street that led to my mother’s house.
“No I didn’t.”
That piqued my curiosity. Clearly he had no intention of taking me home. “Where are we going?” I demanded.
“Wait and see.”
I waited for about thirty seconds before attempting another guess. Patience isn’t really my strong point. “Are we going to your condo?” I asked. “You do know I have class first thing in the morning, right? I can’t stay long…”
“You know I love listening to you ramble,” he said, “but just this once, please don’t.”
Okay, now it was just getting weird.
I managed to keep my mouth shut as he parked the truck and led me upstairs to his luxurious condo. It was still hard to believe my boyfriend was rich. He didn’t act like a rich person…whatever a rich person is supposed to act like.
He opened the door and motioned for me to go in ahead of him.
“Could it be any darker in here?” I commented as I reached for the light switch on the wall.
In one swift movement, Chris pushed past me and closed his hand over mine. “No,” he said with some urgency in his voice. “Don’t.”
“Why not, did you forget to pay your utilities and get your electricity shut off?” I teased as I took off my coat and tossed it on the chair adjacent from the door. At least I thought I tossed it on the chair. In the pitch blackness it was difficult to tell if I hit my target.
Suddenly I heard the click of a switch behind me and what seemed like a million miniature white Christmas lights lit up the room with their soft, warm glow. “Chris!” I gasped as I tried to take it all in. “It must have taken you ages to string all of these up. They’re beautiful but what –?”
It was then that he got down on one knee.
Standing there looking down at him, I thought my heart would leap out of my throat.
“Michelle, you’ve changed my life,” he told me as he looked up at me, as handsome as ever. “You’re sarcastic and quirky and unique. I love your kind heart, your cynicism and your sarcasm. I even love the way you scowl and stomp around when you haven’t had enough sleep. I love you, Michelle, in spite of – no, actually because of – your flaws. I love everything that makes you who you are.”
Chris pulled a small black velvet box out of his pocket. I could see that his hands were shaking. He was nervous. Somehow that made the whole thing even more endearing. “Michelle,” he asked, “Will you marry me?”
When I’d finally regained my ability to speak, I exclaimed, “Yes!” with no hesitation. I knew without a doubt that Chris was the man for me and we’d been brought together for a reason. He completed me.
“God dammit,” he muttered as he tried unsuccessfully to put the ring on my finger. “I thought it would all be smooth sailing after you said yes, but then I go and ruin the moment…”
I burst out laughing as he struggled clumsily with the task at hand. “Here,” I suggested, “Let me take the promise ring off before you put the engagement ring on…holy shit Chris, I’ve never even seen a diamond that big before!”
“Do you like it?” he asked anxiously. “Because if not you can pick out something else…anything you want.” It was cute, how desperate he was to please me. That moment reaffirmed what I’d known for a while: Chris would spend the rest of his life trying to make me happy. He was completely devoted to me, as I was to him.
“I love it,” I assured him. “I love what it stands for and I love you.”
The miniature lights illuminated Chris’s features in a way that was even sexier than candlelight. He looked so good…and so relieved! Butterflies danced in my stomach as I thought about being his wife. Then I let out a delighted cry when he wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me up off my feet, spinning me around.
In the movies, that’s always pulled off without a hitch. But movies are scripted. In all the excitement, I managed to drop the promise ring I was holding in my trembling hand.
We both heard it clatter to the floor, bouncing off the hardwood.
“Oh!” I cried out as Chris set me down and switched the lights on. Just like that, the romantic atmosphere he’d worked so hard to create was ruined. I didn’t mind too much. I was starting to accept that sometimes life throws curveballs at you. Sometimes there’s nothing you can do but laugh and make the best of it.
I was upset about the ring though, especially since I couldn’t see it anywhere on the floor.
I dropped to my knees, peering underneath t
he throw rug and running my hands over the hardwood. “Maybe it rolled under the couch,” I theorized, pressing my ear against the floor so I could peer under the bottom of the large, expensive piece of furniture. “Can you help me move it so I can check?”
“Later,” Chris said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It’s here somewhere. It will turn up…let’s not let it ruin tonight, okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed, accepting his hand and climbing back to my feet. I paused to admire the ring in the light, still feeling lightheaded and giddy. “I would have painted my fingernails had I known you were going to do this,” I commented as I examined them and made a face.
“Your nails look fine,” Chris reassured me, stepping up behind me and wrapping his arms around me. His face nuzzled the back of my neck affectionately and in that instant I realized how incredibly aroused I was.
We’d only made love that one time, the night before he left for Norway. Even though we’d reconciled, after everything that had happened I’d wanted to take things slowly. While we’d been spending lots of time together becoming reacquainted, we hadn’t been intimate…at least not that intimate.
I wanted to feel his touch.
I craved it.
I needed it.
Chris had been respectful of my wishes, not pressuring me for sex even though I knew that he really, really wanted it. When I ran my fingers down the side of his face in a way that I hoped made my intentions clear, he looked cautiously optimistic.
“Uh, just so we’re clear,” he began, “do you want –?”
I silenced him with a kiss, long and lingering, sweet and steamy. Then I unbuttoned his shirt, my hands sliding over his muscular abs and down to the waistband of his jeans. There was already a noticeable tent forming down there. He looked at me with such need in his eyes that I immediately blushed, flattered to know how much he wanted me.
With a lustful growl, Chris picked me up, presumably to carry me into the bedroom. But I guess he just couldn’t wait to have me because he stopped and pushed me up against the wall. I gasped as he ripped my clothes off me as though he was in some sort of uncontrollable sexual frenzy.
Love Is Blind Page 14