by Jen Morris
I raise a trembling hand to knock. Footsteps approach and my lungs constrict, trapping my breath. Butterflies thrash in my stomach, making me feel sick. The doorknob twists and the door swings open and my heart leaps into my throat.
Michael’s eyes meet mine. “Alex…” Concern wrinkles his brow. “Are you okay?”
What? Oh God, I must look an absolute mess. I’ve been crying since Natalie’s office and my eyes are probably puffy and red. My mascara will be in train-tracks down my face.
What the hell am I doing? This is not how one is supposed to look when knocking on an estranged lover’s doorstep in order to win them back.
“Uh, um… I was just in the neighborhood.” I try to give him a smile, but it turns into more of a grimace.
He folds his arms across his chest, cocking his head to one side. I search his face for a hint of a smile, for some sign of happiness at my being here, but there isn’t one.
“How’ve you been?” I try again, desperate for the awkwardness to dissipate. It’s like a thick wall between us and I can’t get to the other side, I can’t get to the real Michael.
He shrugs, shifting his weight.
I press my lips together into a line, feeling a swell of misery. He doesn’t want to see me. He told me his life was complicated, and here I am, adding more stress. I let my gaze slide away. What am I even doing here?
“Alex—”
My eyes flit back to him, but he’s just staring at the floor, rubbing his jaw in thought. And I decide that whatever I do, I’m at least going to share my good news with him.
“I, um, met with a literary agent about my romance novel. They want to represent me.”
A smile touches his mouth. “That’s… that’s fantastic news.”
“Yes. So thank you for your encouragement and support with that.”
He looks down at his hands, sighing.
I swallow hard against the lump in my throat. I almost can’t breathe, this hurts so much. The ache in my heart is expanding, pressing against the edges of me and threatening to burst out. I can feel my chest rising and falling with my jagged breaths, my pulse throbbing in my ears. I need to get these words out—to know I tried.
“I miss you,” I blurt.
His gaze lifts to mine and he studies me, silent.
“I can’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking about you. Everything feels empty. I never meant to mess you around.” I blink against rising tears, searching for the words I need. “At Strand you told me to be optimistic, to believe in love, and I wanted to. But now I can see I was still fighting it. I was scared—scared that my parents were right about me dreaming too much, scared that I’d never get to have the thing I wanted more than anything. Scared that maybe… maybe I didn’t deserve it.”
There’s a glimmer of compassion in his eyes and that gives me the courage I need to continue.
“But I realized it’s a choice. I can either deny the part of me that wants those things—I can deny who I am—or I can embrace it. And I’m choosing to embrace it. Because you, Michael… you made me believe in myself. You made me believe in love. And…” I wipe at my cheek as a tear escapes, determined to speak the truth, to tell him the thing I should have told him at the cabin, long ago. “I love you.”
I hold my breath, waiting for his response, but the silence stretches between us. It feels like an eternity so I speak again, desperately wishing he would tell me what I need to hear. “I don’t know if you’re still interested in me…?” Despite myself, I gaze at him hopefully.
His eyes dart over my face, then he shakes his head. “I’m not.”
Despair washes over me, filling my eyes. Of course he’s not. I’m on his doorstep babbling incoherently, my eyes puffy and my cheeks smeared with tears.
But I know it’s not really that. I let him down. He’s been hurt before and he won’t be with someone who hurt him again—who just makes his life harder. I couldn’t be the woman he needed me to be.
I glance at my hands as a tear slides down my cheek. I’ll never forgive myself for ruining this.
“I’m not interested in you, Alex,” he says, closing the gap between us. “I’m in love with you.”
My eyes fly up in surprise to find a little smile forming on his lips. Then before I know what is happening, he slips his arms around me and pulls me close.
“You are?” I whisper.
He reaches a finger up to wipe my tears away, but more just spill down in their place. Only this time, they’re happy tears.
“Yes. I’m so in love with you, beautiful girl. I think…” He shakes his head, his eyes gleaming. “I think I have been ever since you kissed me in the poetry aisle at Strand.”
I gaze up at him, breathless as his words sink in. “Me too,” I say with a disbelieving smile.
“These past couple weeks have been torture. I thought that when I came to see you at the bookstore, you might, I don’t know, reconsider. But you were so distant. I thought I’d lost you forever.”
“But—” I frown, confused. “At the bookstore, you didn’t say anything...”
“I know. I just… I didn’t want to push you.”
I nod, thinking back to what he said. “You said your life is complicated, and I don’t want to add to that. But—”
“What?” His brows pull together. “You don’t add to the complication, Alex. Is that what you thought I meant?”
I laugh unsteadily. “I don’t know, I—”
“No. You make all of that shit better. You make me better.” He gazes at me affectionately, then tucks me in against his chest. I can hear his heart beating a steady, solid rhythm and it soothes me. My eyes flutter closed as happiness sweeps along my limbs, sinking into my bones. And in the warmth of Michael’s arms, I feel my broken heart begin to piece itself back together.
“You really do make me better,” he murmurs into the top of my head. “You want to know what I’ve been working on this evening?”
I draw back to find a smile nudging his mouth. “What?”
“My historical novel.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I decided to have a go at writing it. You were right. I should do it for myself.”
“And how is it going?”
“Ah, well.” He gives a sheepish laugh. “It’s pretty tough. I’ve never written a novel, so it’s a steep learning curve. But so far, I’m loving it.”
I beam up at him, buzzing with the knowledge that I helped push him towards one of his dreams. Just like he did for me.
“I’m so glad,” I say, loving the excitement on his face. I can feel it pulsing through him, see it in the way his eyes are lit up. “You’re a brilliant writer, Michael, and I know that your fiction is going to be amazing. I can’t wait to read it, and…”
“Alex,” Michael murmurs, his lips hovering over mine.
“Yes?” I say on a sigh, gazing up at him. His dark eyes are hypnotizing me, his masculine scent intoxicating me, his hands on my back radiating warmth through my whole body.
“Stop talking, so I can kiss you.” Then, finally, he brings his mouth down to mine.
47
Michael takes my hand and pulls me inside, closing the door behind us. “Did you have dinner?”
I shake my head, unable to curb the huge smile tugging at my mouth. Being back in his apartment, somehow…. it feels like I’m home.
He takes my coat. “We were just going to eat, if you’d like to join us?”
I follow him into the kitchen and find Henry pulling plates out of the cupboard.
Shit. I didn’t know Henry was here. I hope he didn’t hear me pour my heart out to Michael on the doorstep. I quickly wipe at my moist cheeks.
Henry turns to me, grinning. “Hi, Alex! I made—” he breaks off in concern when he sees me trying to compose myself. “Are you okay?”
I glance at Michael in question, and he puts an arm around my waist, pressing a kiss to my temple. He gives me a little nod and I turn back to Henry with an incandescent smi
le.
“Yes. I’m… Your dad has made me very happy.”
Henry looks between the two of us and blushes. “Okay,” he says awkwardly, turning away and adding another plate to the pile.
Michael chuckles, releasing me and reaching for a bottle of wine. Henry takes the plates through to the table and I wonder if, perhaps, I should come back later. Poor Henry is obviously finding this whole thing a bit much.
“Sorry,” I mumble to Michael. “I didn’t know you guys were about to have dinner. I should go.”
“What?” Michael sets the wine down and turns to me, taking my hand. “No way. I want you to stay. We want you to stay.”
I waver, but when I spy Henry looking at me hopefully over Michael’s shoulder, a smile slides onto my lips. “Okay.”
I stand in the kitchen, watching as Henry serves up three plates of lasagna. Michael pours two glasses of wine and sets them down on the table. Then the two of them turn to me, grinning, and gesture for me to sit. And my heart feels like it will burst when I lower myself into my seat beside Michael, opposite Henry. It reminds me of Christmas, when I spent the evening here with them and Agnes, and felt so warm, so happy. Now I realize why. It’s like I’ve found my place, the place where I’m meant to be. I know I’m getting so far ahead of myself, thinking this, but I can’t help it. And as Michael takes my hand under the table and squeezes, I have to blink against happy tears.
“Sorry it’s kind of burnt,” Henry says, frowning down at his plate.
I shake my head and smile at him. “It’s perfect,” I say, and Michael squeezes my hand again.
As we eat, Henry tells me about things that have been happening at school, with his friends, how much he’s enjoying riding his new bike when it’s not snowing. After dinner, Michael does the dishes while Henry and I sit at the table and keep talking. He tells me about the book he’s been reading—Bill Bryson’s A Short History of Nearly Everything, the book he was reading when I first met him, in the hall—and he shares what he’s learned and how interesting it is. As he speaks, I’m struck by his curiosity and intelligence—traits I’m certain he got from his dad.
Eventually, Michael finishes up in the kitchen and Henry goes to get ready for bed. I sit at the table, finishing my glass of wine, not wanting to leave but knowing I probably should. I did show up here unannounced, after all. And it’s a school night for Henry.
But just as I’m about to rise from my chair, Michael comes over behind me and leans down by my ear, speaking in a low voice. “Don’t you even think of going anywhere. I’m just going to see Henry off to bed, then I’ll be free. Okay?”
I tilt my face towards him. He’s only inches away from me, and I can’t stop myself from leaning closer. “Okay.”
He brushes his lips over mine, letting out a little sigh.
“Ew, gross.” We both turn to see Henry in his dinosaur pajamas, emerging from the hallway.
Michael straightens up, one hand on my shoulder, a wide grin stretching his face. “Get used to it, bud.”
I stand from the table, blushing. “Sorry, Henry.”
He gives a dramatic eye-roll, but I can see he’s smiling.
Michael pads up the hallway with a chuckle, and Henry steps closer to me. “It’s nice to have you here again, Alex. Dad hasn’t smiled like that for weeks.” He reaches out and pulls me into a hug, squeezing me tight. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Henry,” I say, fighting against another round of tears. Happy tears. Really happy tears.
I sit on the sofa trying to process everything that has happened over the past hour and a half. I told Michael I love him, and he told me he loves me back. I ate dinner with him and Henry, and it was wonderful. And as Michael finally emerges from the hall and his eyes land on me and smolder, I’m pretty sure I know what’s coming next.
He reaches for my hand, pulling me up off the sofa. “Henry’s so happy you’re back. He might have missed you more than me, actually.”
I laugh, feeling joy rush my bloodstream. I know that things with Michael can only work if Henry is on board, so having him want me here is everything. But it’s not just that. I’ve missed Henry too. I’ve missed them both.
I run my eyes over Michael, taking a second to just look at him. His dark hair is messy and unstyled, his face is tired, but there’s a light in his eyes, in the way that he’s looking at me—just like that time at the ice-rink. I take a mental picture of him standing there in his long-sleeved tee, faded jeans, bare feet. This man—fuck. He’s everything I could ever want. I’ll never love another man as much as I love him. Never.
He swallows visibly, pulling me close to him. “Bedroom?”
I nod and turn down the hallway without hesitating. He enters the room behind me and closes the door, then turns to me, peeling my layers off, until I’m naked. His eyes roam over my bare skin while I stand there, but I don’t feel the need to hide. Because I know he’s seen all of it—all of me—and he loves me anyway. He always has.
We make love slowly, passionately, as if we’re doing it for the first time all over again. And while he kisses me, holding me close and giving me every piece of him, I wonder how on earth I ever managed to convince myself that believing in love was crazy.
After, he kisses me with those feather-soft kisses that make my toes curl, make me giddy.
“Alex…” He sets his head down on the pillow and gazes at me. His eyes have those deep crinkles in the corners, his mouth is set in a permanent smile. “I can’t believe you’re here. I thought I’d lost you. I’m never letting you go now. You know that, right?”
“I know. And I’m more than okay with that.”
He leans forward to kiss me again. “I love you,” he murmurs against my lips.
“I love you too. More than anything.” I think of the last time I was here, and regret tugs at me. “I’m so sorry about our fight. I promised not to hurt you and I did.”
“Hey, it’s okay. I don’t expect you to be perfect.”
“And I don’t expect you to be, either,” I say quickly, remembering what he’d said last time.
His eyes soften. “I know. I was just scared that I couldn’t be what you need me to be. But I know you don’t need me to be perfect, and you can’t be either. I don’t expect us to always see eye to eye. Sometimes we’ll fight, and that’s fine.” He takes my hand and laces his fingers through mine. “What matters is that we keep going. It’s not a one-time thing, falling in love. We have to keep choosing each other, over and over again.”
“I can do that,” I say, knowing it’s the truth. And just like that, I understand. Happily ever after is not some fairy-tale ending. It’s not a hand-in-hand stroll into the sunset as the credits roll. It’s a work in progress, a choice you have to keep making. And that’s how I know I’m getting my happy ending—because I’ll never choose anyone else again.
Michael runs his thumb across my palm. “When I woke up beside you at the cabin every morning… that was the happiest I’ve felt in forever. I want to wake up beside you every day. But…” He lets his breath out in a long stream. “I guess when I said my life is complicated, I meant that I come as a package deal. I know you love me, but it’s not just me. It will never be just me. You understand that, right?”
I lift his hand to my mouth and kiss the back of it. “Yes. Of course.”
“Because going forward, I need to know you’re okay with that. Is that something you want?”
I pause, thinking, and decide to tell him the truth. “Honestly? I never imagined that when I fell in love, it would be with someone who has a kid. Or a terrifying ex-wife. But then, I could never have imagined you, or how I feel for you. So, you and your package—”
Michael raises his eyebrows and I giggle.
“What I mean is… I know you come as a package deal, and I’m okay with that. More than okay. Henry is such a sweet kid. I love him too,” I say, understanding for the first time that I do. “Because he’s yours. Because he matters to you. And that means
he matters to me, too.”
The creases around Michael’s eyes deepen. “Good. Because… look, I can’t do anything without talking to Henry first. This is his home too, and I need to make sure he’s happy with everything. I’m quite certain he will be, but I need to do everything with him in mind. Does that make sense?”
I nod, smiling. I think I know where he’s going with this, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself.
“Okay. Because I want you here every night, every morning. I want you as part of our family, Alex. Once I’ve had a chance to talk to Henry, once I know he’s okay with everything, I’m going to ask you to move in.”
My pulse accelerates as he keeps speaking.
“And after that… I’m going to ask you something else.” His eyes burn into mine, serious and intense. “I’m not kidding around with you. This is it, for me.”
My heart takes off in a sprint now. I’m breathless as I stare at him. Is he really saying what I think he is?
“Michael…” I shake my head in disbelief. I want to make sure we aren’t getting swept up in the moment, that this is real. Because he’s offering me everything I could ever want. “How can you be certain, so soon?”
He gives me a tender smile. “Ever since you came into my life last year, I’ve been happier than I ever imagined I could be. I never thought I’d feel like this again.” He scrubs a hand over his beard, thinking. “And when you’ve had everything you don’t want, it becomes pretty fucking clear when the thing you do want is right in front of you. And then you don’t want to let that go.”
I press my eyes shut, feeling tears slip out and down my cheeks. Holy shit, I cannot believe what this man is saying to me. I’m vibrating with happiness. It’s coursing through me like an electrical current, lighting every cell in my body. I could power the whole city.
I feel Michael wipe my tears, and when I open my eyes, he’s regarding me with concern. “I don’t mean to freak you out. I know it’s quick, and I don’t want to rush you. But—”
