by Chloe Morgan
Nia
One Year Later
“These billboards are incredible,” I said breathlessly.
Gram chuckled. “You say that every time we walk around Times Square.”
“Well, then you know I mean it.”
“I like watching them scroll in the depths of your eyes.”
I blushed as we stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. I turned my eyes up to look at him, taking in his beautiful hazel eyes. I’d never get used to him slipping such romantic things into the everyday conversation. His words sent my heart beating rapidly in my chest. He released my hand and slipped his arm around me, and we lost ourselves in our own little world as people walked around us like we didn’t exist.
Things had really changed over the past year. Not only had I left Palm Beach to spend my days with Gram in New York City, but I had effectively moved in with him. But, it was a struggle. I missed the ocean. The sound of the waves. The junk washing up on the shore that I could take back to my room and make into something beautiful. I missed working with my hands. With my heart. With my imagination.
Then, one day, Gram came home with a truckload of beat-up furniture.
That moment two months into my living with him started the business I had now. It wasn’t much. It was more for side money than anything. Nothing that could help with the bills Gram and I racked up on a daily basis. But, traveling around the city and picking up old furniture and broken pieces of wood on the side of the road gave me inspiration again. For my birthday a few months ago, Gram rented out little side corner store for me to store my junk so I could work on it.
I took in couches. Broken picture frames. Old television sets. Even mangled wood pallets and cushions. What started out as me plucking junk off the side of the road quickly turned into me taking donations. Booking appointments to fix up other’s furniture. What started as a hobby quickly turned into a side-corner store of its own uniqueness, and I turned the rotten junk into beauties and restored them to their former glory.
Then sold them for only the money I needed to keep the place open and put a little spare change in my pocket.
After all, I wanted to provide something for myself while living in the city.
“Do you think we deserve this?” I asked.
Gram furrowed his brow. “Deserve what?”
I looked out around Times Square as a sigh left my lips.
“This. All of this. The happiness. The safety. The glory. The… everything.”
“Why would you think you didn’t deserve it?”
I shrugged, but he knew why. I felt it in the way he pulled me closer to him, in the way his chest swelled into the palms of my hands.
I felt it in the way he kissed my lips softly, reassuring me that times were now different.
“We went through hell as kids, Nia. You and me, side by side. It’s only fair that now we experience our happiness more than anyone else. You and me, side by side,” Gram murmured.
“It’s so different from when we were younger,” I whispered.
“I know this last year has been overwhelming. It’s been a lot for you to get used to. But there won’t be a day that goes by that I won’t ever thank you for meeting me at that airport in Florida.”
I reached up and cupped his cheek.
“I’ve never wanted to be anywhere else other than at your side, Gram. I just didn’t know if you wanted me there. But after this year and seeing how you easily brought me into your life? I feel more at home than I ever have. You’re my home, Gram. Thank you for accepting me back,” I said.
“There was nothing to accept. I will always be your home, and you mine. No matter how long we were apart, that didn’t change anything, Nia. Home is home, no matter how long you’re away from it.”
I giggled softly. “Times really have changed, huh?”
Gram smiled. “Oh yes, they have. In all the best ways. And Nia?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t want to spend another day without you knowing that I truly love you. From the bottom of my heart. I don’t want another day to go by where you question my dedication to you. Where you question my love for you,” he said.
“I’ve never questioned that. Not once,” I said.
“Well, I want you to have a physical reminder of that.”
“Don’t tell me you bought me another present. Gram, you’ve given me more presents in the past twelve months than I got over the course of my childhood. You don’t have to get me anything else. All I want is you.”
His lips captured mine softly and I melted into him.
“All I want is you, too, Nia. So, answer one last question for me, okay?” Gram asked.
“What is it?” I asked.
He nodded to the left, and I turned my head. And when I did, the biggest billboard sign in Times Square lit up. Champagne bottles burst on the screen, sending the cork tops soaring through the air. The champagne fountains swirled into a statement being written out as people stopped on the sidewalk to stare at us.
I looked around at all of them before I looked back at the billboard sign, and I gasped.
It said, “Will you marry me, Nia?”
“Oh my gosh,” I whispered.
I turned my eyes back to Gram and found him smiling. His hand came up into my view, clinging to the most beautiful ring I’d ever seen in my life: a gorgeous diamond sitting on a rose-gold band with light green stones set into the band itself.
“The green reminds me of your eyes,” he said.
He released my waist and got down onto one knee. I heard a collective gasp around me as tears rushed to my eyes. I cupped my hands over my mouth as Gram held up the ring, repeating the words scrawled out onto the billboard sign.
“Nia, will you marry me?” Gram asked.
And when I nodded yes, the whole of Times Square broke out into applause as he raced up and crashed his lips to mine. He wrapped me up in his arms and held me close as the sign flickered our names in the middle of a beating heart. I cried tears of joy as he took my hand and slipped the ring onto my finger, fitting it perfectly against my skin.
“I love you, Nia,” he said.
“And I love you, Gram. So, so much,” I whispered.
The End
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About the Author
Chloe is a hometown girl from Tennessee who loves a great short romance, drinking coffee most of the day, and hanging out with family. When she's not writing, she can be found playing the piano or surfing Facebook!
Having been a reader all her life, she's hoping that you'll find yourself lost to time, laughing and falling in love all over again with her books.
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Copyright © 2019 by Chloe Morgan.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and plot are all either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons – living or dead – is purely coincidental.
Editor: Sandra Depukat
Cover Designer: Ryn Katryn Digital Art
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