Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (Eight Fun, Romantic Novels by Eight Bestselling Authors)

by Violet Duke

  Fran doesn’t leave my side all weekend except to buy me some of my favorite things. She holds up an overstuffed grocery bag and a handful of DVDs. “I’ve got Twizzlers, Swedish Fish, Hershey’s Kisses, and a couple of chick flicks.”

  No matter how many Twizzlers or Swedish Fish I eat, I can’t stop thinking about Brad.

  “Oh, and I almost forgot, I picked up your favorite ice cream.”

  When she pulls out Liana’s Double Chocolate Brownie, I practically lose it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  IT’S DAY TEN without Brad. The pain isn’t going away. If anything, it’s getting worse. I have so much freaking work to do and don’t feel like doing anything. I’m deleting messages without even listening to them and I’m making sticky note puzzles on my desk.

  Robby finally calls me into his office and I panic. I’m afraid he’s on to me and I’m going to get fired. When I walk in, he’s got his hands behind his head and his feet up on his desk, looking the opposite of what I expected. “Gabby, sit down, dahling, you look like you need a chair.” Then he pauses. “What’s going on with you? You haven’t been yourself lately. Is there anything I can do, sweetheart?”

  “No, thanks, Robby. I’ve just got a lot going on right now.”

  He nods sympathetically. “Yes, by a lot going on you mean a guy, don’t you?”

  “Kind of.”

  “Gabby, honey. There’s either a yes or a no, there’s no kind of.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, let me know if you there’s anything I can do. In the meantime, shake it off and get that cute little head wrapped around my sticky notes.”

  When I get back to my desk, I grab my coffee, hoping it will revitalize me, and go to the lunch room to heat it up, though hot or cold, it still tastes like shit. I plunk back down in my chair and manage to make it through a good chunk of Robby’s to-do list. I type reports all morning, which is pretty mindless, so it gives me a much-needed break. At lunchtime, though, thoughts of Brad are unavoidable. The receptionist arrives at my cubicle with a dozen lavender tiger lilies that were delivered for me, with a card attached.

  Gabby,

  I told you I’d give you space, but I never said I wouldn’t fill your space with flowers.

  Brad

  My heart swells. He’s thinking about me. He hasn’t given up on me.

  It’s hard not to stare at the flowers throughout the day. They’re so damn happy. Just like Brad. They’re also my favorite color. He remembered. The smell pervades my office and makes it difficult to concentrate. What the hell? I couldn’t concentrate anyway. Who am I fooling?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  THE DAYS MARCH forward, and the flower deliveries keep coming. On day two, yellow sunflowers. On day three, pink chrysanthemums. On day four, red gerbera daisies. Every day there’s a new note and I have to do everything in my power not to break down and call Brad.

  By the end of the week, it looks like a botanical garden in here, and I can’t help but smile. At this point, I’m nervously twiddling my fingers in anticipation of today’s flower delivery, but it never comes. Instead, after lunch, a kid in a baseball cap wearing a red cape stands beside my cubicle, holding a cup with The Brew House logo on the side and a bag of Twizzlers. I smile. Of course I smile. I wonder how much Brad had to pay him to wear the cape.

  By now, I’m prepared with tip money. He hands me the cup and Twizzlers and waves goodbye. The cup holds a piping hot Salted Caramel Mocha and the Twizzlers have an envelope taped to the side.

  Dear Gabby,

  It’s been fifteen days of no special coffee for you. I was afraid you might be going through withdrawal. Although it can’t be nearly as bad as the withdrawal I’m going through without you. I miss you, baby.

  Brad

  My heart hurts. I miss him so much I can hardly stand it. There’s a part of me that wants to reach out to him, but I’m so scared. I notice a longer note folded inside the card; my hands shake a little as I open it.

  Dear Gabby,

  There are some things I need to say to you. I didn’t want to put this in a letter, but you’re leaving me no choice.

  I know you’re scared. I’m scared, too. I know you feel like everyone in your life has let you down. People walk away from you just because, or they’re pulled from your life unexpectedly. That’s not me, Gabby. I’m not walking away from you. Ever. There’s no way that will happen. Do you want to know why, Gabby? I’ve never felt this way before about anyone. The moment I think about you, I smile. When you’re near me, I feel calm. I can relax. I can be myself. I feel acceptance. You let me be me. I know I’m crazy sometimes, but with you it’s okay. God, Gabby, it’s so hard to put all this into words, because sometimes there are no words. You’ve shined a light on me, exposed me, left me bare. I’m not embarrassed, though, because I feel free.

  People have left me too, Gabby. Important people. My mom, my sister, even my dad. The people in my life that I trusted, that I thought would be there for me always. Family isn’t supposed to do that, right? So, I get it. I know what you’re feeling. I want to prove to you that I’m different, if you’ll let me. I’m not like everyone else in your life. I accept you, Gabby. I’ll never judge you and I don’t expect you to be anything you’re not. Just be you. That’s all I want. That’s all I’ll ever want.

  I want you to be happy, truly happy. I thought being with me made you happy. I know you make me happy. A sense of contentment washes over me when I’m when you. You arouse all of my senses. You make things real for me. You see me in a way no one else has, or has ever wanted to. It’s almost like you opened up a window that I’ve been banging against for so long…screaming and clawing and trying to get out. Yet, that day you walked into my shop, you simply opened the latch and I poured out. Every bit of my heart and soul was exposed. I wasn’t scared. I’m not scared with you.

  I know I’m asking you to take a chance and trust me, but I promise you, it’ll be worth it. We’re worth it. The possibilities are endless when we’re together, Gabby. I feel it, and I know you do, too. Please don’t let your fear and your guilt overwhelm how you feel when we’re together. Give me the chance to show you I’m not like everyone else. I care about you so much.

  Even though I feel like I’m breaking apart inside right now, I’ll continue to give you space. I’m not giving up on you, though. I won’t give up when I’ve found the one person who truly makes me feel like a superhero. You make me feel like I can leap tall buildings, like I can take on anything that life throws my way. I feel invincible as long as you’re by my side.

  Please don’t give up on us. Think about me. Because I’ll be thinking about you.

  Love,

  Brad

  *

  FRAN COMES INTO my room later that night with anxious eyes. “More flowers today?”

  “No. Coffee, Twizzlers, and a letter.”

  “What did it say?” She holds her hand out for the letter and I rifle through my purse to find it. As she reads it, she shakes her head.

  “What, Fran?” I don’t know why I’m asking, I already know what she’s going to say.

  “What do you mean, what?! He’s fucking crazy about you, Gabby. For the love of God, get your head out of your ass and tell him you feel the same way.”

  “It’s not that simple, Fran.”

  “Bullshit, Gabby. It is.” She tosses the letter at me and gives me an encouraging pat on the back. “It’s simple if you just let go.”

  After Fran leaves, I lay in bed, exhausted and craving sleep. My brain is wide awake, though, filled with jumbled thoughts. I feel my insides crumbling and my walls along with them. Itâ�
�™s getting harder to keep them up. Brad’s making it very difficult for me. He just won’t give up. There’s a part of me, deep down, that doesn’t want him to. So many other people in my life have given up, and I realize now that it scares me most to think that he might, too. All my life, I’ve wanted someone to accept me and when I finally find another someone who does, I push him away. Yet, he keeps coming back. How can I not try to trust him, the way he’s trusted me? I want to, I really do, but the fear is overwhelming. I close my eyes to find relief and am drawn into sleep.

  I see him. Clark. He’s surrounded by the glow of a beautiful white light. The brightness of it blinds my eyes. I keep walking until I reach the edge of the light. I can go no further, something stops me from crossing into the light. He stops me. He doesn’t say anything, though. He just looks down at the ground. This is my chance to tell him. I need to tell him. The tears are welling up in my eyes, but I can’t let that stop me. I take a deep breath.

  “I miss you so much, Clark. It’s so hard to believe you’re not here anymore. Everywhere I go, I hear your voice, I smell you, I feel your touch. I long to see you, to talk with you, to hold you again. I miss the way you held my hand when we walked on the beach. The way you laughed when you got really nervous. The way you kissed me and held onto me like I was the air you needed to breathe. The way the world fell away when you looked at me. The way you could heal me with a simple touch, a glance, a smile. I loved you, Clark. I’ll always love you, and I promise I’ll never forget you. You’ll always hold a special place in my heart.”

  He finally lifts his eyes to me, and I see the tears rolling down his cheeks, falling away into the surrounding light. “I loved you, Gabby, so much. You were the light that brightened my life, my heart, my soul. Your spirit wrapped around me and warmed me. I thought we’d be together forever, but God had other plans for me. I’m just grateful that you weren’t in the car with me that night. You’re alive. Go live your life. Let yourself feel. Be happy. Let yourself love. Find someone who will hold your heart.

  You’re with me, Gabby, in my heart. Your love surrounds me always. And someday, when you’ve seen an endless array of those sunsets that you love so much, I’ll see you again.”

  He blows me a kiss, turns to the luminous white light, and is swept away.

  A knock awakens me. Fran cracks the door open and sees the tears streaming down my cheeks. She sits next to me on the bed, holding my hand lovingly and then pressing it to her cheek.

  With a shaky voice, I say, “I saw Clark. He seemed so real. I told him how much I loved him, and I said goodbye. I loved him so much, Fran.”

  “I know you did, sweetie, and he loved you.” She kisses my hand and smoothes my hair.

  “But I miss Brad. I miss him so much it hurts. I…I love him, Fran. I love Brad.”

  “I know.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  MY EYES OPEN to a new day. Life. The life where there are no guarantees. The life where every moment counts, because you never know when there will be no more moments. My only hope is that I haven’t destroyed my chances with Brad. I think about him every minute. All the times he made me smile. All the times he made me laugh. All the times he held my hand. All the times he held my heart. I haven’t been the same since I walked out on him sixteen days ago. Sixteen days, yet it feels like a lifetime. I can’t get him out of my mind or my heart.

  I grab my phone and dial Brad’s number. It’s ringing and my hands are shaking.

  “Gabby?” Brad answers, surprised. The sound of his voice nearly makes me crumble.

  “Hi,” I say in a small voice. “Thank you for the beautiful flowers, and the coffee, and the letter.”

  I hear him breathe deeply. “Do you have any fucking idea how much I miss you? I can’t see straight. Please tell me you’ve changed your mind.”

  My voice raises an octave. “I’ve changed my mind.”

  “Seriously?” I hear the nervous excitement in his voice.

  “Seriously. The cape clinched it,” I say, with a huge smile he can’t see. “Can you meet me somewhere tonight?”

  The excitement in Brad’s voice is palpable. “Anywhere, baby.”

  “Top of the Rock, say seven o’clock?”

  He doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll be there. And Gabby?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m so glad you called.”

  I hear his happiness, and I can feel it too. “Me, too.”

  I hang up the phone and walk over to my dresser. Standing in front of the drawer, I pause and take a deep breath. I reach out and pull the handle with trembling hands. Lifting up the pictures, my fingers dig further until I feel it. I pull out the burgundy velvet box and just stare at it before my fingers shakily open the lid. It still shines just as brilliantly as when Clark first put it on my finger. Holding it close to my heart, I go to my closet and stand on my tippy toes to pull my keepsake box off the top shelf. I place it on the bed and sit down, open the shiny gold latch, and run my fingers over my butterfly shirt, my day of the week undies, but most especially the pictures of Clark and me. My favorite picture of us is here, the one at the beach during sunset. I hug it close to my chest for several minutes, right against my heart, then let out a sigh before I put it back in its special place. The velvet of the ring box makes its way to my cheek, and I hold it there as tears fill my eyes. “I love you, Clark. I always will,” I whisper. I place it inside the keepsake box, tuck it away in my closet, and walk away, smiling.

  *

  I MAY AS WELL have called in sick today. Thank goodness it’s Friday and Robby has left an alarmingly small number of sticky notes. But I can’t think of anything except Brad all day. I’m going to tell him that I love him and we can finally be together. I can’t wait to see him and wrap my arms around him. I’m never letting him go, ever.

  Most of my day is spent flicking a pencil against my desk and watching the clock tick slowly by. I manage to answer twelve of twenty five voicemails and make a couple of baskets with Robby’s completed sticky notes, which helps pass the time, too. My heart is vibrating loudly and my stomach is doing belly flops. I love Brad and I can’t wait to tell him. I smile at the fragrant garden my cubicle has become. This is it.

  At 6:30, I clean up my desk, gather up my jacket, grab my purse and the single red rose I bought for Brad, and make my way over to Rockefeller Center. Even the supreme nastiness of the subway doesn’t bother me tonight, nor the fact that my foot has been stepped on twice, nor that I just sat on a piece of gum.

  Clark’s words suddenly come back to me…let yourself feel, let yourself love, be happy.

  I will, Clark; I promise.

  I don’t see Brad when I get there, so I take a minute to try and compose myself. The delicate petals of the rose are shaking, but steadying my hands is an impossible task. My heart is racing. I can’t wait to see Brad. Taking a deep breath of the night air to settle my nerves, I marvel again at how magnificent the city looks from up here, my mind drifting back to the perfection of our first date.

  Looking down at my watch, I notice it’s 7:15. It’s not like him to be late. My feet are pacing the platform, rose petals blowing in the cool breeze. Tick tock. Another few minutes go by and I pull out my phone. Brad’s phone rings and rings, then finally goes into voicemail. Texting him doesn’t elicit a response either. What the hell? Has he changed his mind? No, he hasn’t. I trust him. I trust the way he feels about me.

  Another half hour goes by. I’m cold, and it’s not from the temperature. Four voicemails and four texts with no response. Something’s wrong. My body feels prickly, and not in a good way. Worry is beginning to consume me. I can’t stay here. Willing my legs to move, I head for the subway and make my way to The Brew House, only
to find the “Closed” sign on the door. Dammit, where are you Brad? I continue to call him, but he doesn’t answer, and tears are threatening. I run to the subway. My feet are having a hard time catching up to my mind. I need to get home. I need Fran.

  Tears are crashing down my face and I push open the door with more force than I’d intended. Fran sees the look in my eyes. “What is it, Gabby? What’s wrong?!”

  “I called Brad and told him I wanted to see him. But he didn’t show up.”

  “What do you mean? Why didn’t he show up?”

  My breathing is erratic. “I don’t…know. We were…supposed to meet…and…I…can’t reach him. Something’s wrong, Fran, I just know it. I’ve called…him…several times and sent him texts, but he hasn’t responded. I don’t…know…who to call.”

  “You need to try and calm down, sweetie. Maybe he had to stay at the shop a bit longer.”

  I’m screaming now. “No, Fran! I went by there! He isn’t there! He would have called me!” Falling to my knees, my cheeks course with salty tears as soft whimpers leave my mouth. “I’ve finally found the person I’m meant to be with and I can’t freaking find him.” I’ve got a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Fran runs over and folds her arms around me. I let go, sobs pouring out from every crevice of my body.

  Fran calls the police. Apparently you can’t file a missing person’s report for twenty-four hours. That’s such bullshit.

  The last time I looked at the clock it was 6:00am. Somewhere between sobbing uncontrollably and waiting, we fall asleep. When I open my eyes, Fran is hunched up beside me. My eyes are sore and I can barely see through the slits. Squinting, I peer over at the digital clock and think it reads 3:00pm. Oh my God, we slept the whole day. Recognition of last night washes over me and I frantically grab my phone off the coffee table. Dialing Brad’s number, I’m silently willing him to answer. Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up. The moment I hear his voicemail, I fall apart. Slumping down to the soiled carpet, my face dampens from a fresh batch of tears. I recognize this feeling. Something’s happened to him. Deep down I know it’s true, even though I’m praying like hell it’s not.