An Unlikely Love Story : A sweet, heartwarming & uplifting romantic comedy (Falling into Happily Ever After Rom Com)

by Ellie Hall

We shake, but she pulls me into a European style hug with a kiss on each cheek.

  “I’m only in town for a little longer, but glad I got to see my Hazel-poo.”

  Hazel-poo as in poot, I mouth when Victoria reaches for her coat.

  My girlfriend gives me a sharp, don’t you dare look.

  I smirk. “I don’t mean to bother you. I’m wondering if you can spare a cup of sugar.”

  “Oh, she’ll gladly give you some sugar, darling. And I’m just leaving. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you at the wedding.”

  Hazel’s jaw drops.

  “What?” Victoria asks. “Darling, I’ve never seen you like this for one. For two, you wanted to talk about my marriage to your father. That can only mean one thing.”

  Hazel’s phone rings and she runs from the room.

  Victoria smiles genially. “I’ve always wanted the best for my daughter and I trust you fit the bill.”

  “About that.” I pull out the replacement ring that I’ve been carrying around for weeks. The other one was from a different chapter in my life. This one has a diamond and a subtle sapphire loop around the two carat stone, like her eyes. Both. “Do you think she’ll like it?”

  Victoria beams. “She’ll love it. But it’s the devotion behind it that counts. Learned that the hard way. The size of the rock doesn’t matter. It’s how much of a rock the man is. Steady. Faithful.”

  “I give you and her my word.”

  Victoria sucks in her cheeks like that remains to be seen, but I will prove myself to Hazel for the rest of our days.

  On second thought, I should’ve made that sponge cake.

  Hazel appears then, looking flustered and nervous.

  “Everything okay?”

  “I just got an offer for UUniversity. The same company who bought my app, want to purchase the program for four times the price. Four times.” She pauses. “I have to think about it.”

  “You two have a conversation to have and cookies to bake. I will be on my way.” Victoria gives Hazel a quick kiss on each cheek and then breezes down the hall.

  “Unexpected visit?” I ask.

  “Sort of. I called her late last night. She was on the first plane here. Seven hours from our conversation and she was standing in my living room.” A pair of tears slowly track down her cheeks. “She knew I needed her. To hear and see and know that my love story is mine. Well, ours. Yours and mine. Also, it gave her an excuse to go shopping in Manhattan. My father had a heck of a life insurance plan plus investments. Despite the heart break, she’s set for life.”

  I give Hazel the warmest hug I can.

  “I’m still shocked she came all this way.”

  “It’s called unconditional love. Knows no bounds or borders. It’s the kind I have for you.”

  “Even if I poot?”

  “Hazel-poo?”

  Her cheeks turn a soft rose and then she giggles.

  I kiss her on the lips to show that I’m not put off by the occasional poot.

  “What kind of sugar did you need?”

  “That kind,” I say around a smirk. “But granulated table sugar will do. Caster sugar is what I think you call it in the UK.”

  She scrounges around in the kitchen before we head back to my apartment and talk some more about Hazel’s mother’s visit and their conversation about her father. She says it was healing, a way to let go of the past.

  “I started off mis-measuring ingredients. Burning a tray or two of cookies. Overall, getting the recipe wrong.”

  “Every cookie you’ve ever shared with me has been perfect.”

  “Like I said, trial and error.”

  “And commitment.”

  “Letting myself get up to my elbows in dough. In the stickiness of life.” I realize we’re speaking in metaphor. “That’s the recipe for a successful relationship.”

  “And honesty, trust, communication.”

  “Definitely,” I add. “From now on, whatever we bake, we bake together.”

  Hazel tilts her head from side to side. “I like it better when you bake. But how about this, I’ll clean up? Wash all the bowls and pans. Team work.”

  I nod. “I like that. Whatever I bake and you clean up, we eat together.”

  She beams a smile. “Sounds like the perfect recipe.”

  “What your mother was saying about marriage...” I bite my lip, trying to gauge Hazel’s temperature on the subject.

  She covers her face with one hand. “Do you remember that first time we met in the hall with Catherine and I was going on about my wedding day?”

  I smile. I’ll never forget. “Is it something you want someday?”

  Her eyes flash to mine. “Of course. But first, cookies.”

  Thirty minutes later, the apartment smells like home, and I take the tray from the oven. I pop a second batch in using the remaining dough, pour two glasses of milk, and join Hazel on the couch.

  The buttery, crispy, chocolaty disc of perfection melts in my mouth when I take a bite. Just when I go for a second, I change my mind and plant my lips on Hazel’s.

  She grips my jaw between her hands, kisses me once, twice. Then again.

  My hand brushes the bare skin on her neck. I kiss her once, twice. Then again.

  “You are an exceptional baker,” she breathes.

  “You are an exceptional kisser,” I reply.

  We kiss with the hunger that food, even exceptionally delicious cookies, can’t provide.

  As if that weren’t enough, I trail kisses behind her ear, down her neck, and across her collarbone. She laces her arms around my neck, drawing me closer. The kiss deepens, and it’s as if our past fears and hang-ups drift away, dissolving in the snow as the flakes fall softly to the ground.

  When we part, Hazel says, “Late in the season for a snowstorm, huh.”

  “Nature threw a curveball.”

  “What will we do if nature throws us one of those?” she asks.

  “We’ll bake and clean up whatever mess we make,” I say with a wink.

  On Monday morning, Hazel comes with me to my doctor’s appointment. After an examination and another X-ray, I finally get the okay to walk without the boot.

  Hazel asks questions about recovery exercises and bone alignment. Dr. Lee answers patiently even when she has him go over it again just so I don’t risk re-injuring my ankle.

  We both cheer when we step outside onto the bustling sidewalk. But my leg is stiff. I hesitate, and duck into the alcove of a nearby building, out of the flow of foot traffic.

  “I know you want to take it slow,” I say.

  Her brow furrows. “I cleared my schedule for today so there’s no rush...Wait, you said I want to take it slow. Remember, I was a runner in high school and college. If you want to sprint, you’ve met your match, buddy.”

  I laugh.

  “I mean us. What I want to ask is if you’re ready to go out on a date with me.” Another question gets in line behind that one. I’m afraid I wear a bashful smile because asking a girl on a proper date isn’t something I do often.

  “I’d like that.”

  “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  We head back to our building, but instead of plopping back on the couch like I’ve been doing for weeks, I sneak back outside.

  While the city comes awake from under a glistening blanket of snow, I take a long walk through Central Park. I pick up a paper cup of coffee to warm my hands as I reflect, consider, ponder, and prepare.

  I watch while pigeons peck at the ground in search of breakfast. Their feathers shine opalescent under the blue sky of a winter’s day. A large husky lumbers by, leading its owner through the snow.

  Most of the pigeons scatter, but a few hold their ground. They’re actually rather plucky birds with their understated plumage, resourcefulness, and determination. Hazel’s theory about swans, peacocks, and pigeons comes to mind.

  My steps are surer than ever, even over the icy ground, even after the injury. For the first time, I am certain where my
future leads me and who I’m going there with. We may not be able to fly, but Hazel and I are swans, destined to be together for life.

  The Date of a Lifetime

  Hazel

  I change outfits three times. Considering Maxwell has seen me in my pajamas, with bed head, and in tears, you wouldn’t think it would be so difficult to pick out something to wear. At last, I settle on a champagne colored dress stitched with small beads that look like liquid gold. My earrings are long, and my hair is blown out to voluminous perfection. I feel glamorous and pretty, yet demure because this is my first official date with Maxwell Davis.

  I smile at myself in the mirror when he knocks on the door. I grab the pan covered in tinfoil on the counter, my coat, and keys before giving Mew a little pat on the head.

  Maxwell’s eyes swallow me whole. “You look beautiful.” He kisses me on the cheek.

  “I made these for you.” I hold out the pan.

  He takes it in his hands and inhales. “I didn’t know you could bake.”

  “Let’s just see if you can clean up later.” I wink. “Oh, and they’re dirty brownies—dirty as in indulgent.”

  “Mmm, they smell delicious. And to think, I made you a batch of cookies for dessert. I hope you have an appetite tonight.” He leaves the pan in his apartment and then juts out his elbow.

  I take it as we walk to the elevator, looking forward to coming home later. Don’t get me wrong, you know I love to eat, but dessert with Maxwell is the best.

  “By the way, those shoes look perfect on you,” he says.

  “They were a gift from my favorite person. He’s a banker and a baker...”

  “And he loves you.”

  Maxwell kisses my cheek.

  Our reflections shine in the elevator doors. “I definitely like the way you look beside me. And in front of me when we’re talking to each other. And when you’re deep in thought, practicing yoga—I like you all ways, Hazel Loves.”

  I smile and smile and smile. The night is crisp as we step outside to the waiting cab. I’m not sure exactly where we’re going—well, specifically, tonight we’re heading to a French restaurant on Waverly that Tyler has been raving about. But where are we going in general? All I know is that Maxwell is my destination and we’re starting a new adventure right here, right now. I squeeze his hand.

  “Remember when we were driving to Vermont, and we were playing that game?” he asks.

  “Yeah.”

  “You said you’d never been in love…”

  “Uh, huh,” I reply. “But that’s not true anymore. I’m in love now.”

  His smile lights up the night. After the cab lets us off, we walk toward a park, glistening under the fresh snow and in the soft lights.

  I turn all mushy and emotional inside. “I told you how I felt the other day, but I’m so sure of it right now I could shout it from the rooftops. Something I never thought was possible has become, suddenly, very much a reality.”

  “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” I ask.

  “I think I am.”

  “And that is…?”

  “I’ve said it once, twice, and I’m ready to say it a thousand more times, at least. I love you, Hazel.”

  “I love you, more than cookies and brownies. More than anything or anyone.”

  We kiss and kiss.

  I break away, and say, “I cannot wait to get back to his apartment to have dessert.”

  “We could go now,” he suggests.

  “What about our date?”

  “Oh, right.” But then he lowers to a bench, drawing me closer. “I’d get down on one knee, but given my recent injury, I should be careful.”

  My pulse quickens. This is not what I thought he was saying.

  “Ah, heck with it.” Maxwell lowers to one knee and pulls a small blue box from his pocket. “Hazel Aphrodite Loves, I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

  I squeak then I squeal and then I bounce on my toes. “Yes, yes, I will.”

  He slides the glistening and giant ring on my finger and lifts to his feet.

  “I couldn’t wait a moment longer.” Then he confesses he was going to ask me during the crowning glory presentation at the baking contest.

  “But Polly ruined it.”

  “No, she just gave us a chance to sort out the past so we have a clear path into the future. It doesn’t matter how long we’re engaged as long as we’re together.”

  I glimpse the ring and Maxwell’s twinkling eyes. “Forever,” I whisper. For the first time in my life the notion doesn’t scare me. Nope. It thrills me.

  He continues, slightly nervously, which is adorable. “Then I was going to ask you later, back at my place while we were eating dessert. But—”

  “But I want to celebrate. I want it to be official. I want to tell the world. I want to be with you for the rest of my life.” I sling my arms around his neck. I step back and admire the ring and then meet Maxwell’s sparkling eyes again. “I’ve never wanted something with someone so much in my life.”

  I kiss him again and we continue to the restaurant. I can’t help myself and tell everyone we encounter. We’re congratulated and people ask about our plans—have we set a date, picked a location, arranged our honeymoon.

  Not yet. Soon.

  After we eat dinner, we head back to Maxwell’s apartment. While he gets dessert, I stand by the window, looking out over the city.

  The offer to buy UUniversity hangs in my mind. I created it to form community, to help people figure out a way forward. Funny, it helped me as much as I’ve been told it helped others.

  I’m not entirely sure what comes next for me, other than a large wedding with friends and family and a honeymoon with just Maxwell and me.

  Maybe I’ll find my next big purpose there, a creative project that lights me up and drives my passion. Maybe not. Whatever I do, I’ll keep living my dreams, trusting my man, and loving life.

  Maxwell sits down on the couch and I join him.

  Before I settle in for dessert, I say, “Love is strange.”

  “Why? You read love stories and we use it all the time: I love pizza. I love football. I love dogs. I love the Caribbean. I love—”

  “I love you,” I say with all the confidence in the world. “But what was that about loving dogs? Mew is going to be very upset.”

  Maxwell chuckles. He takes my hands. Linked, they rest on the cushion between us. My ring sparkles.

  “Hazel, I wasn’t looking for marriage—not to avoid family insistence because I was still single or because of my age. I wasn’t seeking someone to complete me. That’s way too much pressure between two people. I wasn’t looking for my life to change. But the truth is, I didn’t know what I was looking for until I met you.”

  Never mind leaving my body, my breath clears the room. I’m suspended by the feeling behind Maxwell’s words.

  “This isn’t a crush, Hazel. It’s not just that I’m infatuated with you. I can define those feelings. But this is something more. It’s here.” He pats his chest.

  I suck in a breath. This is all the assurance I need. My fears are quelled. My worries left somewhere on the side of the road when I was nine. It’s like a shroud lifts. My vision clears.

  I’ve had three marriage proposals and two guys profess their undying love. All five were very questionable. One was at a club. Another in Bali at a yoga retreat. One was on a dance floor in Biarritz. One was during high school and the other from a man twice my age. All of them seemed uncomfortable or delusional or inexperienced.

  Maxwell isn’t any of those. He is my true love. My happily ever after. And I know it’s true.

  My heart thunders in my chest. Storm clouds gather in my brain. The part of me that was insecure and forged from the ashes of my father’s trespasses flees before me. At last, I am truly free.

  “I thought I was afraid of falling in love, but I’m not. Not anymore. Really, the only thing of concern is pooting in front of yo
u.”

  His laughter comes from his belly. “But you already did. That ship has sailed. There’s nothing you could do to diminish my attraction to you.”

  “Are you afraid of anything?” I ask.

  “Losing you. I can’t get you out of my head. I can’t stop thinking about you. I want to be next to you. I don’t want anything but you. Before it was about what women could do for me. Now, I want to know you intimately so I can learn what I can do for you.” Maxwell lets out his breath and then continues, “Every time I look at you, I see something new and more beautiful than the last. This little part of your shoulder for instance.” He kisses it. “I can hardly focus on work stuff. When your footsteps come down the hall, I get excited to hear about your class or what you did that day. I daydream about you.” He smirks. “I also just want to hold your hand.” He squeezes his fingers more tightly around mine. “I want to hear about your hopes and dreams and help make them happen. And I don’t even care that I sound like a big fluffy marshmallow.”

  “Well, as you know, I’m the mushy marshmallow.”

  We both chuckle.

  Then I go quiet. “You don’t have to worry about losing me because I’m never getting lost again. The hot mess express has reached its destination. Been decommissioned. I found my way. It leads to us.”

  The moment flickers and sparks between us. I edge closer to him on the couch and we kiss.

  When we part, Maxwell says, “Now, how about dessert?”

  We each take a cookie and tap them together.

  “Cheers.”

  “To our future,” Maxwell says.

  “Now, I was thinking. For the wedding cake, what would you think of a giant cookie tower?”

  Once more we laugh, and whatever the future brings, I know it’ll be sweet.

  Bonus Recipe

  Hazel Loves Cookies

  Catherine’s Grandmother’s Famous Cookies

  Prep Time:15 minutes

  Cook Time: 8 minutes

  Total time: 3+ hours, for dough chilling

  Servings: about 24 cookies

  Ingredients: