by A. M. Hudson
forward. I’ll never be that girl. If you want me, you have to make it clearer than this. You have to be
consistent.”
“Ara?” Mike frowned, surprised. “Where’s this coming from, baby? What’s wrong?”
“This is what’s wrong. Us!” I yelled and tried to stand, but he took my hand and pulled me
back down, grinning as his eyes lit with expectancy.
“Are you saying that...you love me?”
“You know I do—otherwise I would’ve told you already that I don’t.” I lowered my head.
“Holy shit!” Fists of elation flew into his hair. “Oh, baby.” He looked at me, and without
touching my skin, cradled his hands around my face—like he was going to grab it, but hesitated. “I
can’t believe it. I’ve waited so long to hear you say that. You have. No. Idea.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Baby, nothing’s changed. I —I never sai d anything to your dad ab out not wanti ng you.
What’re you—when was this?”
“The other day, when you said that thi ng about going home al one. I don’t do long distance
relationships, Mike—they don’t wo rk.” Even though I ’ll love David fr om afar—for the r est of
forever.
“Ara, I didn’t mean that. I was...” He looked frustrated. “As if I was going to tell your dad I’d
asked you to come home with me. He’d have pulled out his shotgun right then.”
My eyes became smaller with an insistent smile. “True. I suppose.”
“Baby, I want you. You know that. I...I want nothing more than for you to come home with
me.” He looked at me for a long moment. “And...you know I’d look after you, right?”
He would. He’d take very good care of me; love me, protect me, and I’d never want for
anything. “I know,” I said softly.
“Then...come with me.” He took my hand, his gentle touch was littered with a hopeful
energy. “You could finish school, still go to uni—be a teacher—like you always planned?”
“Mike?” I hesitated.
“Please?” He looked down. “Don’t say anything now. Not if you’re going to say no. Just. Just
think about it, okay? Tell me aft er the ball—before I go back home. But just think about it.
Please?” But...it would mean moving away from my da d—away from my family. Yet, I’d be with
Mike—be where I should’ve been all along. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”
“Thank you.” He smiled, seeming so open, so vulnerable—almost like the smile was the glass
case around his porcelain soul. “You know?” he said suddenly, releasing a really deep, tense breath,
then looked away—far away to where his thoughts were on the other side of the window. “Whatever
you choose? I already decided I can’t go back—not without you.” A warm grin lit his face then. “If
you stay—I stay.”
But you can’t kiss me? The little fold between my brow s tightened. “What about your
career?”
“Ara, I could’ve joined Tact ical six months ago. But you know how dangerous it can be. If
something happened to me, I ...” he paused, thoughtful. “I never wanted to leave you alone, but
when—” he paused again, “when you moved away—and when you fell in love with someone else, I
decided that if I’d lost you, I’d make a perfect candidate to risk my own li fe because it’d be worth
nothing without you in it.”
“Mike? What a horrid thi ng to say. Your life is worth more than anything to—” I drew a
deep, exasperated breath. “Why would you think like that?”
“It’s not like suicide, okay. It’s just that I’d never have joined if I had you to look after—it’s
no life for a man in love. Neither is being wit hout you.” Mike’s eyes soften ed as they scanned my
cheeks and my lips. “When you told me you fell in love with David, I all but fell apart. I thought I’d
lost all my chances, for good. But...I don’t need a hot-shot career if I have the girl I love. You are all
that will ever matter to me, Ara.”
“So you’d move here? Throw it all away? What would you do for a job?” the voice of reason
within me challenged.
“I’ll be fine. I used to be a chef, remember. I can get work anywhere.”
“But you’d need a working visa?”
“Or—” He took my hands again and looked at me with those charming, caramel-colour eyes
that melted my heart like maple syr up on pancakes . “Or, we could get marri ed—you’re still an
American citizen, right?” his tone softened on the end into a shrug of his shoulder.
“You’re never getting married. Remember? You hate wed-dings.” I laughed.
“No.” He shook his head. “I said I wouldn’t get married until I found the right girl.”
“And you think I’m the right one?” I stared into his face, my words coming out with way too
much sarcasm.
“I do. With all of my heart, Ara. You are the one,” he said with a slight laugh. “You always
have been.”
“Mike. You haven’t thought this through. I mean, you’ve only been here for a week—”
“No. Trust me, I’ve thought about t his—for a long time.” He nodded. “I just wanted to be
sure about how you f elt before I asked you. I uh, I don’t t ake rejection as well as I’d like to think I
do.” We both laughed sof tly. Then, he inched closer, and the serious Mike I’d come to know more
recently slipped into place. “All I’ve been waiting on is you—for you to realise you love me, and
then—that night, when I didn’t kiss you—”
I looked away, feeling the pain of the night I lost my mother etching into my heart.
Mike lifted my chin with his fingertip and pulle d my face toward his. His lips were so close
that I could smell the peanut butter on his breath. It smelled nice.
“—You took me by surprise, Ara. I always imagined we’d get ma rried first, before we made
love. I wanted everything to be right—f or you.” He shook his head. “I was such a fool. I should’ve
taken you when I had the chance. And then, when you left, I thought I’d lost you forever. I thought
maybe if I c ould come over he re and steal you away, take you back with me, I could make
everything okay again, the way it should’ve been. Then you met David—,” his voice lowered, and
my eyes watered uncontr ollably at the very mention of his name, “and I los t you all over again. I
came here to say goodbye. I came to see you one last time before I let you get on with your life. But
you’re not happy. I thought you would be. But—” the warm breath he exhaled brushed my
collarbones when he leaned his forehead against mine, “I can see how much you’re hurting. I don’t
think David’s good for you. I’m good for you—you belong with me.”
He’s right—David’s not good for me, and that’s why he’s gone—that’s why my heart feels
like it’s been trampled on, and why I want to rip it out to stop the pain. I’ve been kicked in the gut
too many times now, with love, and I can’t possibly take anymore.
Crying was no longer optional; wa rm tears turned cold as the chill in the air from the stormy
night before left its mark on my cheeks. “Mike, I—”
“Shh. Don’t speak, baby. Don’t say anything. I know. I know all about it.”
“All about what?” Fear widened my gaze.
His shoulders dropped. “I have a confession to make.”
“What?” Oh no, my diary. I wrote everything in there; e
verything about Mum and Harry and
Mike and David—David and his peculiar diet. “Did you read my diary?”
“No. No way. I’d never do that.
No. I—” He pr essed his lips together . “I stole David’s
number from your phone and...I called him.”
“What? Why?”
“Well, you were so sad. You didn’ t even notice how sad you were. I saw you tr ying to be
happy, trying to pretend everything was okay. But I’m not stupid, Ara. I knew ther e was something
up with you. I’ve known you all my li fe. All of your life for that matter.” Mike took my hand. “I
knew he was hurting you. I—I was afraid he might be one of those controlling types; you know, who
hurts you and makes you feel like you need them to feel good about yourself—” Mike smiled and
pressed his thumb to the crease between my brows. “I was wrong. He’s a decent guy, Ara.”
“Well, when you talked to him—what...what did he say?” I asked delicately.
“He told me he’s leaving—that you couldn’t be together. He told me you wanted a family one
day, and a normal life, but he couldn’t give you that.”
“So…” Mike’s words echoed in my mind, “—he...what, he told you to have me?”
“It wasn’t like that, Ar—” Mike rolled his head to one side. “He just said that he knows I’ll
make you happy, and that’s all he ever wanted for you.”
David gave me away? How could he love me so much that he could pass me on to another
man? How could he love me so little that he could let me go?
My heart felt unsteady.
Mike waited for me to speak, his maple-colour eyes, full of love and compassion, focused on
the thoughts as they spread across my face.
I can’t be mad that he cal led David. I feel hurt that he kn ows everything—embarrassed, and
I’m sad that David’s never coming back, but it isn’t Mike’s fault. It’s so like him to do this. He’s my
protector—he always has been.
My best friend. My Zorro.
“Please don’t be mad. He just wants you to have a—a normal life.”
“And you think you can give me that.”
“Ara, I’ll give you everything. I’ll be whatever you want me to be. I’ll be a husband, a father
to our children, a provider, a pr otector, but most of all, Ara, if you say you’ll marry me, I will love
you—more than anyone has ever been loved in th e history of mankind, and I w ill devote every
breath I take to being the best husband you could ever have.”
“But what about what you want, Mike? I don’t want you to be what I want. I want you to be
happy, too.” S tuck for words, I paused for a se cond. “Do you even want children?” We never
discussed that. Mike’s good with kids—he always adored Harry, but never spoke of wanting a family
before—even when I’d sit for hours and dream about being a mum, he always had his head stuck in a
book or his eyes on a screen while I chatted away.
Mike took a breath, lifting his shoulders as he did. “All I want is you, baby girl. I want you a
thousand times over and every day for the rest of my existence. As for kids...well, I never thought
about it before, but—” all went quiet while he looked out the window, “—if I could place a piece of
myself inside of you, and—” he l ifted my singlet top and traced little circles around my
navel, then smiled, “—and that woul d grow, and b ecome something so beaut iful as life—as a l ife
that’s a part of you and me, combined, I can’t imagine—” he lowered his head in emphasis of the
word, “—I can ’t imagine something more wonderful and magical. So—yes. Yes, I want to have
babies—with you. I want a hundred little dark-haired, blue-eyed babies running around, and you and
me, we’ll be together. We’ll have each other. Always. That’s what I want.”
But is it what I want? I love Mike, how could I not? He’s kind and smart and handsome and
romantic—he’s willing to give me everything I ever wanted out of life. Do I want that with him?
“Please?” Mike slipped off the bed and knelt on the ground in front of me. He reached i nto
his bedside drawer and pulled out a small, purple box, then lifted the lid just a fraction as he looked
into my eyes. “Make me the happiest man on the planet. Tell me you’ll marry me, Ara-Rose.”
With his trembling fingertips he lifted the lid on the box completely, and a small red stone in
the shape of a rose caught my eye; two emeralds rested atop a thin gold vine on either side of t he
flower. I lost my breath to a lump that formed in my throat. Oh, my God. He’s really proposing. This
is it. This is the moment. I can change everything in my world for the rest of my life, for forever. For
my forever, and for Mike ’s forever, too—because they’re the same. We are the same . We belong
together.
But my heart... will it always truly belong to David?
“Yes,” I whispered so quietly that Mike’s eyes focused on my lips.
“Did you just say yes?”
“Yes. I...yeah, I did.” I could feel my eyes sparkling with tears as the afternoon light streamed
through the window.
“Seriously?” A breath of laughter escaped with the word.
“Yeah, seriously. It’s a yes. It was always meant to be that way.”
Mike laughed, then gently lifted the ring from the box and held it between his fingertips. “I...I
have a speech.” His cheeks flushed. “I kinda planned this for a while.”
I shrugged, smiling widely. “Let’s hear it then.”
He cleared the awkwardness from the back of his throat, then rested the ring to the tip of my
nail, holding my fi ngers firmly—almost unintentionally too tight. “I desi gned this for you, because
it’s perfect, beautiful, like you—a delicate flower.” He swallowed and slid the ring a little further
onto my finger. “It...it sparkles like the way you bring light to my life, and just like when I first saw
you on the day you were born, Ar a, when I got to see this ring in all of its completed grandeur, I fell
in love. I knew it was the one; just like the girl that’ll wear it for the rest of her life. My girl. My
beautiful rose.”
The ring, when he slid it all th e way to the base of my f inger, fit so perfectly—like Mike fit
me. We were made to go together—the sun and the sand—and as the ruby rested against my skin, it
felt like a bolt of electricity shot out through the emeralds beside the rose. The energy warmed my
hand, then my arm, and travelled into my heart; pumping that feeling, that love, all around my body.
I smoothed my fingertip around the base of the gold band. “It’s perfect, Mike.”
“I know.” The corners of hi s eyes softened and he grinned, running his fingers from my
hands, along my forearms, then rested them behind my elbows.
As I parted my legs at the knees and let him kneel between them, he seemed a li ttle rigid,
jittery, I suppose—a kind of school-boy awkwardness I’d never seen my confident, womanising best
friend wear before. I wished I had the guts to ask him to kiss me. I wanted so badly to feel the way
his lips would connect with mine—to see if they’d mould to the shape of my mouth—a kiss that
matched—or if they’d be stiff and rigid—a kiss that belonged to two stone carvings.
“What’re you thinking, Mike?”
“Nothing,” he said, but his eyes held the smile of poorly concealed thoughts.
“Lia
r.”
He looked away, leaving his thumbs on my hipbones and his f
ingers almost completely
wrapping my wa ist. He se emed lost fo r words. “Sorry. It’s just...I’ve never fel t this way before.
About anyone. Not like this. I—I just don’t know what to do with you.”
“You could...” I swallowed, tr ying to force down the rising heat in my cheeks. “You could
kiss me. That’s always a start.”
But he laughed at me instead. “I want to...ki ss you. So bad it’s actually causing pain in my
chest. But I just don’t wanna get it all wrong—”
“Mike?” I pulled his face t oward me and closed my eyes tight. He smelled so fresh and
sexy—a vibrant, musky cologne. I just wanted to press my face into his neck and breathe him in.
“What can a kiss hurt?”
“Everything. I’ll go too far. I won’t be able to stop. My knees are shaking, baby—” He
laughed and looked down. “I’ve wanted this for too long. It’s taking everything in me right now not
to throw you on the bed and tear off your clothes.” He chuckled, but stopped, biting his lip. “I’m so
sorry, Ara—I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Mike. Just shut up and kiss me.”
He shook his lowered head and closed his eyes for a second.
“Please?” I wrapped my ankles around his hips, gripping him tight. I just didn’t get it. Why
would he ask me to marry him, then make some lame-ass excuse not to kiss me?
Like a heart-consuming sadness, the need to feel him close to me pulled at my brow, and
when he looked up at me again, he frowned. “What is it, Ara? Why are you frowning?”
“I—I’m…I’ve wanted this, too. Don’t you get it? It’s not just you.”
“I know.”
“Then, kiss me.” He went to shake his head, but I s topped him with a finger to his lips.
“Then, afterward, I—I want you to make love to me.”
The breath he was obviously holding blast fro m his smiling lips. “I’m not gonna do that ,
baby. Not until we’re married.”
“What? Why?”
“You know why.”
I went to clutch my locket, dropping my ha nd when I realised it wasn’t there. “I—I’m
hideous, aren’t I?”
“Ara, baby. No way. You are so perfect I have to dig my nails into my palms to st op from