Page 75 of The Attack Zone
Hey love,
You don’t just deserve peonies. You deserve the whole dang garden. I hope you’ll let me keep giving it to you. I love you.
- Mitch
“I love you,” I whisper in her ear. “I didn’t think I could be with anyone because I don’t want to be a burden, but you make me want to try.”
She looks up at me with soft eyes and says, “I love you, too, Mitch.” It floors me, those words coming out of Stacey Anderson’s mouth aimed at me. “You could never be a burden,” she says. “You make me want to try too.”
“So,” I say. “Are we doing this?”
She takes my neck in her hand and pulls my head down to her level. Her fingers run through my hair as our lips meet. The kiss is quiet and sweet and so different from our first. It’s also just as perfect. Because it’s us.
When we finally part, she rests her nose against mine and says, “We’re doing this.”
EPILOGUE
MITCH
Three Months Later
“Can I take this thing off yet?” I ask, tugging at the silky fabric.
“No!” Stacey says from the driver’s seat. “I’ll tell you when we get there.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were taking me to your secret sex dungeon,” I say.
“Eye masks aren’t always sexual, Mitch,” she sighs. “This is just a normal, non-sexual surprise.”
“Bummer,” I say, moping a little in my seat.
Since the ad ran, things have been crazy. I somehow managed to go even more viral and wound up doing interviews on for some local magazines and even some national TV talk shows. It’s been a bit of a whirlwind, but so many people have been reaching out to share their own stories that it feels completely worth it. Stacey and I have even talkedabout doing an extra fundraiser next season for a local non-profit that works in the youth mental health space.
Today is our first day without an interview or event, so when Stacey woke up as early as me and insisted we get ready to leave, I was a bit bummed. I wanted to sit on the couch and do nothing. Instead, I’m in her car with my eyes blindfolded and no clue where we’re going.
Finally, the car turns and seems to pull into a parking spot. I can feel Stacey put it into park.
“Okay,” she says. “Go ahead.”
I remove her silky eye mask from my face and wait for my eyes to adjust to the sunlight. When they do, I see a familiar building with a familiar sign next to the entrance.
New puppies!
“Why are we at the shelter?” I ask.
“Bella,” she says as if I’m supposed to know what that means.
“She’s still here? You want to go play with her?” I ask.
“Not exactly,” she says. “Come on, let’s go inside.”
I crawl out of the car and follow Stacey through the front door. The usually bustling shelter is quiet aside from a few distant dog barks, and there’s a new banner hanging across the front desk.
Happy Gotcha Day!
“Huh, that’s new,” I say under my breath, still confused as to what on earth is going on right now.
“It’s for you,” Stacey says, lacing her fingers through mine and giving my hand a squeeze.