"If I tell you something," she says, "can you promise to keep it just between us? I don't want your sisters knowing this."
"Yes. I promise. I won't tell." I'm feeling nervous, wondering what she's going to say.
"I never wanted you girls to know this, but I also don't want what's happening to your father and me to affect your future relationships. I want you to be happy, and if Dylan is the boy for you, then I don't want anything to ruin that."
"So what are you saying?"
She sighs. "Years ago, back when your father was traveling a lot for work, I got lonely. There was a man. A man who worked at my office and we...well, we went out a few times, and one time, things went too far."
"You cheated on Dad?" My jaw practically drops to the floor. My mom is the last person in the world I would ever think would cheat.
"I didn't mean for it to happen," she says. "It was just one of those things that happened in a moment of weakness. Your father kept promising me he'd cut back on the travel but he didn't and it was making me angry. I worked full time and had to be a single mother and take care of the house. It was all too much. So when this other man paid attention to me, listened to me, offered to help in any way I needed, I felt cared for. Appreciated. Like someone finally understood what I was going through. It was wrong, and I knew it was wrong right after I did it but by then it was too late."
"How did Dad find out?"
"I told him. I couldn't live with the guilt so I told him and we ended up going to counseling. But it didn't help. Your father was too angry with me. He couldn't forgive me. And to get back at me he...."
"Cheated on you."
"He said it only happened once but I don't know if that's true. Honestly I think it went on for a couple months. Anyway, after that we discussed divorce but both decided to stay together for you girls. Looking back, that was probably a mistake but it was the decision that seemed right at the time."
I take a deep breath as I let this sink in. My mom cheated. And so did my dad. I never in a million years would've guessed that's what sparked all those years of fighting. I guess I don't know my parents as well as I thought I did.
"We tried to get back to the place we were at before," my mom says. "But we just couldn't do it. There was no trust left. No respect. And eventually, no love."
"If it hadn't happened, do you think you'd still be in love?"
"It's hard to say. I'd like to think we would, but other things could've happened to drive us apart. Your father and I were never good at communicating. Whenever I wanted to talk about serious issues he'd shut down, and that's hard on a relationship."
Dylan doesn't shut down. He's always open with his feelings. I'm more likely to shut down than he is, which is something I probably get from my dad.
"Amber," my mom says, her voice soft but stern. "Don't let the divorce affect your relationship with Dylan. I know it's easier to push him away until you've accepted this and dealt with it and feel like you're in a better place, but this is the time when you can really test your love for each other. If he's willing to stick by your side through something like this, then chances are you can get through most anything. So don't push him away. Let him be there for you. Let him show you how much he cares."
I nod, even though she can't see me.
"Your father and I had many good years. Just because things didn't work out doesn't mean I regret being with him. We had a love that I'll never have with anyone else and we have three beautiful daughters to prove it. So don't let this divorce discourage you from being in a relationship. Don't ever be afraid to love someone. Go into it with your heart open. That's the best advice I can give you, because when you love someone fully and completely and they love you back, it's the best feeling in the world." I hear noise, like she scooted her chair back. "Honey, I hate to rush off the phone but I have to take Britt to cheerleading practice. Can we talk later?"
"Yeah. But mom?"
"Yes, honey?"
"I'm sorry you have to go through this. I'm sorry things ended this way."
"I am too. I wish things could have gone differently. But we'll move on from this. I promise you, things will get better. I love you, honey."
"Love you, too. Bye, Mom."
She hangs up and I lie on my bed, feeling like a giant weight has been lifted off me. Like the dark clouds have parted and there's light again. My parents' infidelity explains why they fell out of love and I really needed to hear that, but that isn't the reason I'm feeling so much better right now. The reason I'm feeling better, more hopeful, is because my mom still believes in love.
After everything she's been through, I expected my mom to be bitter about love. To have closed her mind and heart off to the very idea of love. To discourage me from ever pursuing it. But instead, she told me to go for it. To love with everything I am, despite the risks of having my heart broken.
My mom loved my dad with all her heart and now her heart is broken. But despite that, she still wants her daughters to experience love. To take the risk and go out in the world and find someone to give our hearts to.
I already found that someone. And I'm ready to give him my heart, without hesitation or doubt or worry about what may be.
I go to my desk and take out a piece of paper and my special pen and begin writing. Writing to the person I'm giving my heart to. The guy I met last May who I was only supposed to be with for one night but ended up being the guy I want to spend my forever with.
I still have my doubts. I still have fears. But I'm taking my mom's advice. Open my heart. Love fully and completely. It's exactly what I've wanted to do but my uncertainty about the future wouldn't let me. But I'm letting those uncertainties go because I want to be with Dylan. He's the one I love. The one I want to be with. The one I want to give my heart to.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Dylan
"I'm going out," Van says as he opens the door. "You want anything?"
"No, I'm good, but thanks." I focus on the basketball game on TV but hear Van laughing.
"Seriously, dude, is this ever going to end?"
"What?"
He comes back holding an envelope and drops it in my lap. "This letter shit. You guys are already dating. Why do you keep doing this?"
I smile. "Because it's romantic."
He rolls his eyes. "Whatever, man. See ya later."
After he leaves, I rip open the envelope. I haven't seen Amber in over a week. It's killing me not to see her but I want to give her space. I want her to come to me when she's ready and I'm hoping this letter is telling me she is.
Or she could be breaking up with me. Shit!
I unfold the sheet of paper. It's covered with scrolling letters written with her special pen.
Dear Dylan,
There once was a girl who believed in fairy tales because fairy tales were better than real life. Real life is full of sadness, disappointment, stories that don't end well.
So the girl chose to believe in fairy tales and waited for her prince. And she found him, in of all places, a frat house. Not exactly a castle but it would do. After their brief encounter, she ran away like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight.
The night they shared was magical but she feared the magic would disappear if they ever met again. But staying away from him wasn't possible. She had to see her prince again, and when she did, the magic was still there, sparkling all around her, even brighter than before.
Then something bad happened. Something that made her question magic and fairy tales and happy endings. A dark cloud hung over her and she shunned the prince, uncertain if she trusted the magic between them, or if it could last. But she still felt it, even without him there, because it was in her heart.
No matter how many dark clouds followed her, the lightness, the magic, remained in her heart because the magic she felt was love. True love for her prince. And then suddenly, the dark clouds parted and she saw the light again. Bright, powerful rays of light that made her feel happy and alive and desperate to see
her prince again. But this time, she promised herself she would give him her heart, fulling and completely. And she hoped he would do the same, because he was, after all, her prince. She knew that now more than ever.
Throughout this journey, the girl discovered that happily ever afters don't really exist, but that love does, and love, although it has its ups and downs, leads to true happiness. So now, she wants her prince back, if he's willing to take her. She knows she hasn't made it easy on him, making him ride through the dark forest, chase her through the grassy meadow, wade through the rushing stream just to get to her.
But if he still wants her, she's waiting with open arms, and an open heart.
Love always, Amber
I smile. That might be her best letter ever.
My phone dings and I see it's a text from Amber. Did you read it?
Yes, I text back.
There's a knock on the door. I set the letter down and go to the door. When I open it I see Amber standing there in a light pink dress, her blond hair down around her shoulders, styled with soft curls. She looks like a princess, which I think is intentional.
"Hi," she says, looking hesitant. "I'm here to um..."
"Get your prince?"
She smiles. "Yeah. I rode on a horse and everything."
I chuckle as I glance at the driveway. "Your horse looks like a Ford Focus."
"It's the best I could do on short notice." She looks down, then back up. "So um, can I come in?"
"Yeah, sorry." I step aside. I was so busy staring at her I didn't realize she was still outside.
We go in the living room and she stands in front of me. "I don't really know what to say other than—"
"You already said it. The letter said it all." My arms go around her and I tug her into me. "It was a good letter. Better than your other ones."
She laughs. "Meaning my other ones were crap."
I shrug. "So you're not a writer. Not everyone is."
"At least I got my point across." She looks up at me with those bright blue eyes. "But I didn't get an answer."
"You didn't ask a question," I say, teasing her.
She tilts her head. "Will my prince come back to me?"
"He'd ride through the dark enchanted forest to be with you."
"So that's a yes?"
"It's a yes." I lean down and kiss her beautiful lips, the ones I've missed so damn much that once we start kissing I can't stop, until she slowly backs away.
"Let's go to your room."
After some much needed make-up sex, we go out and get something to eat. Then later that night, we go to Amber's apartment because Kira is spending the weekend with Austin.
We have sex again, then lie in her bed, her body resting against mine.
"We still don't have a good story," she says.
"What are you talking about?"
"Our story. The one we'll tell our grandkids."
So she finally sees a future with me. I smile at that.
"I told you, we'll make something up. Or we'll just tell them we met at a party. We'll leave out the one-night stand. Nobody needs to know about that."
She stretches her arms out and sighs happily. "I'm hungry. Want to go find something to eat?" She turns to me. "Oh! Would you make that egg thing again? That was really good."
"It was just scrambled eggs."
"It was still really good."
"If that's what you want, then yeah, I'll make it." I give her a kiss. "Let's go."
She gets out of bed and puts on her robe while I put on my jeans.
"What's that?" I ask, pointing to the bulletin board above her desk. There's something red hanging from it.
She goes over and looks at it, then laughs. "Kira must've taken it from my room back home and brought it here. She was probably hoping it'd restore my faith in love."
"What is it?"
"The remnants of a balloon I found when I was a kid. My family was on vacation at Lake Michigan and the balloon floated down to me when I was on the beach."
"Huh." I walk over to get a better look at it. It seems familiar. Oddly familiar. "Why'd you keep it?"
"Because I'm a hopeless romantic." She laughs again. "There was a message inside from some kid. I still have the note."
The note? My heart beats faster. There's no way. No freaking way.
"Is it back at your house?" I ask.
"No. I keep it in my jewelry box."
"Can I see it?"
She looks at me funny. "Um, okay." She goes to her dresser and opens her jewelry box and takes out a small scrap of paper.
Holy shit. That can't be it. How would that even be possible?
She starts to read the note. "To whoever—"
"Wait. Stop."
"Why?"
"To whoever finds this," I say, slowly walking toward her. "If you're a boy, throw it out. If you're a girl, it means we're meant to be together. When I'm old, I'll come find you and we'll get married. So don't marry anyone else. Just wait." I'm standing in front of Amber now. Her eyes are wide, her jaw dropped. She looks down at the note and we say the last line together, "I'll come find you."
"Oh my God." She drops the note as her hand flies over her mouth. "You were him? You were the little boy? How is that possible?"
"I went to camp that summer. It was just north of Chicago along Lake Michigan. One day they made us write notes and send them off in balloons. I don't even know why I wrote that. Everyone else wrote basic shit, like their name and where they're from. But when I sat down to write, it's the first thing that came to mind. And then I sent it off, never thinking it would make it to anyone."
"But it did," she says as her hand falls back by her side. "I can't believe this. I found your note. YOUR note, Dylan."
I smile. "I know. It's crazy."
"I waited for you. When I got home from the trip, I tried on every dress I had so I'd be all ready for when you arrived. But then you never came."
"I was only ten." I chuckle. "Didn't have any wheels back then, other than my bike, which I doubt would've made it to Michigan." I cup her cheek. "You really waited for me?"
She nods. "For weeks. Months. I didn't know who you were or what you looked like, but in my heart, I felt that if I ever saw you, I'd know it was you."
"And you did," I say, putting the pieces together. "That night at the party, we both felt something. We both felt like we'd met before even though we hadn't."
"But we had met, just not in person." She looks in my eyes. "I knew it was you. I didn't understand it at the time but now I do. I felt connected to you. Drawn to you. Because I knew you. I knew you from the note. I waited for you."
"And I found you." I wrap my hands around her face and kiss her.
She's the girl. Amber's the girl I wrote the note to. The girl I said I would marry. I found her.
If I ever doubted fate, I never will again. This is fate in all its wonderful glory. Fate brought Amber and me together. We were meant to go to that party that night. We were meant to meet. Meant to be together.
"You know what this means?" I ask, smiling at her.
"What?"
"Our story didn't start at that party. It started when I sent that balloon. When I was ten and you were nine. That's our story, Amber. That's the story we'll tell our kids, and our grandkids."
Her eyes widen and she smiles even more. "You're right! That's our story. And it's perfect. Better than perfect! It's amazing. Better than anything I could even make up."
"Let's go eat," I say taking her hand. "Then we're going to come back here and I'm going to make love to the girl who found the balloon."
She gives me a kiss. "I love you."
"I love you too."
What are the odds? I mean, seriously, it makes absolutely no sense for a balloon to make it all the way across Lake Michigan and land at the exact spot where Amber was standing on the beach.
It has to mean something. It has to mean we were meant to be together.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Amber
Two weeks have passed since Dylan and I officially ended our break and found out about the balloon. I still can't believe it. I told the story to everyone I know and nobody else can believe it either. It seems too crazy to be true but that's what makes it so special. We're probably the only two people in the world ever brought together that way. It's a story unique to us. And it proves we were meant for each other.
"Are you nervous?" Kira asks as she sits beside me. We're at the bar where Vandyl is playing, seated at a table near the stage.
"A little," I say. "Okay, maybe a lot." I take a big gulp of the drink she brought me.
"Relax. You two are together so it's not like it was really a one-night stand."
She's referring to the fact that tonight Dylan will be singing his new song, One Week, for the first time, and he'll be singing it to me. And since it's a follow-up to One Night, soon everyone will know I'm the girl he wrote the song about.
A few days ago, Dylan sang One Week to me and I loved it. Just like One Night, the lyrics were rich in emotion and I cried when I heard it. Dylan was right when he said the best music is inspired by someone. The inspiration is what creates the emotion.
After Dylan played the song for me, I told him he had to perform it but he said he didn't want to. He said it was just for me, but I told him he had to play it for others because it's too beautiful not to share.
When he finally agreed to perform it, he asked if he could sing it to me from stage and I panicked. I didn't want people knowing I was the girl, but then I thought about it and decided it'd be okay because as Dylan and I have said all along, that night wasn't just a one-night stand. It wasn't just about sex. It was more than that. It's the night that brought us together. The night we realized there was something between us that we'd never felt with anyone else.
"I think I'll be okay," I say to Kira, swigging my whiskey sour.
I hear Dylan behind me. "Better slow down on those drinks." He sits next to me and gives me a kiss.
One Night Page 28