Page 90 of For the Record
He puffed a breath out. Meanwhile I was holding on tight to mine. “But then…we started drinking, and you mentioned wanting to get married, and I had the ring, and apparently drunk me thought it was genius to ask you there. And…yeah. I screwed up, Rach. Bad. But I was going to tell you. I was going to make it a gift to you. It ended up being harder to explain the more time went on. I didn’t even know how you felt about me until I was leaving to go to Florida and you were almost as upset as I was. I knew as soon as I got back and your race was over that there would be no more beating around the bush. I love you. I have for years, and that’s one thing I won’t apologize for.”
My eyes stayed locked on his, my mouth ajar and tears blurring my vision. That was all the answer I needed, wasn’t it? It was everything I had to hear. My Adam didn’t do anything spontaneously. He was meticulous, thoughtful—overly thoughtful, really—and considered every outcome before diving into something. You would think my past self would have realized that when I woke up in that hotel room with a ring on my finger.
“Adam.” I leaned closer to him, placing a hand on his jaw. “I am honored. So honored to be your wife.”
A breath shuddered through us both. His hands went to my waist as his head dipped low.
“I’m sorry I got so mad. I was hurt, and I didn’t want to hear you out, but…I should have known you never meant to hurt me. You protected me, time and time again, from any pain. I should’ve realized this was eating you up too. I’m sorry.”
His long arms wrapped around my waist. He pulled me to him and breathed me in. “Thank you, Adam. For everything, you incredible man.”
He pulled back enough to plant a kiss on my forehead before leaning down to kiss me.
His lips met mine in a kiss that was both tentative and passionate, a mingling of apologies and forgiveness. I’m sorry, it said. I love you, it practically shouted at me. He started soft, a gentle exploration of my lips, testing the waters as if this could be any different for us now. And maybe, in a way, it was different. We were both different. But in the best possible way. Growth, that was what we each had. Separately and then together.
I poured every ounce of all my pent-up emotions into that kiss, a silent promise to never let anger or pride come between us again. It was a kiss filled with years of shared memories, of laughter and tears, of the joy of being together and the pain of being apart. A kiss that made promises on its own. Promises to not let something this good slip between us. Never again.
Adam pulled back from me, his hands brushing through my blond hair. “I have one more thing for you.” He stood and went around the desk, pulling out a gift box with a poorly wrapped bow. I eyed it curiously, and he shrugged. “I can’t wrap very well, but I thought you’d appreciate it anyway.”
I reached out for the gift and opened it like a wild raccoon, which made him smile. Opening the box, I slumped. “Oh.” I sniffed. “Oh, Adam.”
Sitting in that perfect square box was what I’d searched for for years. David Bowie, Prettiest Star. In pristine condition. Exactly like the one my dad gave me before my mom destroyed it. My tears fell hard and fast as I looked up at him. “How?”
“I called Arthur when I was in Florida, asked if he could track down the original owner.”
So that was why he’d randomly come up here to dig through files from nearly ten years ago.
“He found the guy’s number, some dude living in a mansion off a hill. I called a hundred times and eventually got through to him. This was supposed to be a part of the whole…will you marry me thing…”
I squeezed the record gently to my chest and rocked from side to side. This man. Oh, this man. He was every bit of mine as I was his. He was in my veins and my heart, pushing and pulling me back to life.
“This must have cost a fortune.”
“Ah, it was worth it. Been saving for a while.”
My nose sniffled and I walked toward him, carefully setting the record on the countertop. I leaned into Adam, wrapping both arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss.
He pulled back and looked down at me. “Before we went to Vegas, I told you we were more, but I didn’t know what it meant. I know now. Husband and wife. That’s what we’re meant to be. What we were always meant to be.”
I smiled up at him. I couldn’t agree more.
Currently playing: You Get What You Give by New Radicals
***
“So, how big is too big?”
“Is there really such a thing as too big?”
I considered it for a moment, looking out at the miles of rows filled with Christmas trees, any and all sizes to pick from. “Mmm, no.”
My hands fell to Adam’s, and our fingers locked together while we wandered through the aisles, searching for the perfect one.
I wasn’t kidding when I told Adam that I was going all out for Christmas this year. Our house was covered in bows, scented candles, tiny village houses, and fake snow all over. I kept waiting patiently for Adam to tell me to knock it off, but he never did. It almost made me want to take a bet with Layla on just how much glitter and tinsel I could add in this house before he gave up and asked for me to stop.
We passed some small Charlie Brown kind of trees that Adam didn’t even look at. He knew I was here for the minimum ten-foot showstopper trees. The crisp winter air filled their lungs, invigorating them with a sense of excitement and joy as they searched for the perfect tree.
Our breaths formed tiny clouds in front of our faces as we laughed and chatted, our cheeks flushed with the cold. With my hair half-up and half-down, tiny strands (my angel wings, according to Adam) kept flying in my face. I could fix them myself, but every time the wind blew them into my face, he’d brush them away, his touch gentle against my skin as we strolled through the rows of towering pines and fragrant firs. I just wanted an excuse for him to touch me. I think he did too.