Disarm (27 page)

“Drive safe. Call me when you get home,” I said to fill the silence. “Thank you for helping me move.”

He kissed the top of my head. “You're welcome.”

We reached the truck and stood there for a long moment, both unwilling to let go. Eventually, we pulled apart and faced each other.

“So . . .” he said, anxiously fidgeting with the keys in his jeans pocket.

I plucked up the courage to ask
the
question. I didn't know what to expect but I needed to hear his answer anyway. “Henry, why haven't you asked to move with me?”

His lips formed a thin line as he gazed at me. “Because what I want might confuse what you want. You need to make decisions that are in your best interest.”

“I appreciate that,” I said, not at all surprised to hear the logical, diplomatic answer. Still, I couldn't help but shiver from the disappointment chilling my skin.

“Before I go, I have to give you something,” he said, his hand still in his pocket.

My heart skipped a beat. “What is it?”

He held out his hand, his fingers closed around the object. “Something that belongs to you.” He unfurled his fingers to reveal not a diamond ring but a different kind of rock altogether, one that was in the shape of a wonky star.

I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. I didn't know until then just how much I wanted Henry to stay, how much I wanted to marry him and grow old together. “I don't want it,” I said but he insisted, pressing it into my fingers until I finally held on.

“This is just temporary, Els,” he said, bringing my fist up to his cheek. “When you're ready, you let me know.”

I nodded and reached up to kiss him, committing to memory every taste, every feeling, creating memories to hold close in the coming weeks. There was no fight left in that kiss, only grim acceptance.

His jaw muscles were jumping when he pulled away, his blue eyes taking me in. He kissed my forehead one last time. “Don't forget me,” Henry said and got into the truck.

With a breaking heart, I watched him back out of the space and drive out of the parking lot and out of my life. The world closed in around me, suffocating me until I was gasping for breath.

I faced the apartments and closed the umbrella, allowing the rain to pelt my face to keep my tears company. I looked down at that stupid rock in my hand, blaming it for everything that was wrong in my life. I formed a fist around it, wanting nothing more than to hurl it into the bushes, but I knew I would just run right over and drop to my knees to search for it. There are just some things in life that are not worth losing.

I couldn't hear anything beyond the rain and the pounding of my heart, so when I heard my name being called, I thought I had just dreamed it up.

Then I heard it again. “Elsie!”

I spun around in time to see Henry jump out of the truck and run toward me. He nearly bowled me over when we collided, but he caught me, steadied me.

“I couldn't do it,” he cried, grasping my head and kissing me desperately. “I turned that corner and couldn't make myself leave. I would have to be the biggest moron on the planet to leave you again.

“I love you, Elsie. I want you to be happy and live your dream, but I can't pretend that I don't want to be by your side throughout all of that. I want to be part of your life always,” he said, raining kisses on my face and stopping at my forehead.

I reveled in the warmth of his lips and in the power of second chances. “I want that too. I want you here with me.”

“Do you?” he asked. “Are you sure?”

“More than anything,” I said with a happy sob.

He reached into his pocket again. “I don't want to live another day without you, Els,” he said, grasping my left hand. “I've made some huge mistakes but I know, I
know
, that if I drive away right now without asking you this question, I will regret it for the rest of my life.”

He got down on his knee, on the wet ground and all, the ring poised at the end of my finger. “I know I broke your trust in me, but if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. Just . . . marry me?”

I fell to my knees in front of him and slipped that ring all the way down my finger. “Okay,” I said through a smile that was breaking my face wide open. “I'll marry you, Henry.”

He let out a relieved laugh and pulled me to him, lifting me off my feet as he stood up. I wrapped my arms around his neck and simply gazed at him as he carried me down the stone pathway.

My vision of Henry may have been blurry from the tears and the rain, but what I felt for him was crystal clear. The years apart—the hurt and the anger—all of that washed away until only the two of us remained.

THE HAPPY EVER AFTER

“You ready?” Henry asked, coming around behind me and resting his chin on my head.

“Hold on, one more thing,” I said, finishing with the image touchup and saving the JPEG. As I emailed the file to the junior designer on my team, I glanced down at my ring again, at the princess-cut diamond on a simple platinum band that encircled my finger. “Tell me again about this ring,” I said, a little embarrassed to say that four months had passed and I was still mesmerized by it and what it symbolized.

“You've already heard that story.”

“I'd like to hear it again,” I said, leaning back in the computer chair to look up at my fiancé.

He gave an impatient sigh but told the story anyway. “After you issued the three-date challenge, I went to BC Clark the next day and bought it. The woman who helped me asked about you so she could help me find the right ring.”

“And what did you tell her about me?”

He spun the office chair around and bent down, his hands on the armrests as he faced me. “That you're a brat,” he said, pinching my nose. “And that you wear simple and classic jewelry.”

“What else?” I urged with a smile. I'd heard the story several times before, but didn't think I'd ever tire of hearing it.

“I told her about the challenge, that you'd given me something nearly impossible to accomplish. She told me that this ring, this expensive bauble, was sure to make you forgive me and I shook my head and told her that I wasn't trying to buy your forgiveness or your love. I was getting the ring as an alternative to that other rock.”

He looked into my eyes and gave a rueful smile. “The day I was getting ready to leave you in Denver, I had both of those in my pockets and I kept touching them, wondering which one to give you. I wanted to give you the ring but I thought giving you the rock was the right thing to do,” he said. “Good thing I don't always do the right thing.”

I touched my lips to his and kissed him tenderly. Four months had passed since that rain-soaked proposal, four months since Henry gave me the ring and delayed going home by a day. He had stayed in Oklahoma for a few more weeks to give me some space to think clearly, to get situated with work and my new life. As it turned out, taking that job was one of the best decisions of my career. I was able to live in both design worlds as an art director and a senior designer. Some days I could even work from home.

Henry got his affairs in order back in Oklahoma before moving to Colorado for good. He had given up the deposit on the house he was renting, sold most of his stuff, and had cancelled his application to the Oklahoma PD, starting the entire process over in Denver.

For now, we lived in my apartment and it was almost like old times, except I no longer had a room to escape to whenever things got too stifling. Luckily, I'd only signed a six-month lease so we would be able to find a larger place fairly soon.

Have I completely forgiven Henry? I like to think so, but some of that anxiety lingers on, the worry that he might up and leave at any time still niggling at me at random times. But true to his word, he was here day by day, building a life with me.

“You ready?” Henry asked, standing beside our luggage at the front door.

I turned off my computer and nodded. I grabbed my leather jacket and purse and we loaded the bags in the Volvo.

The flight to California took seven hours. We had a connection in Phoenix, so it was evening by the time we arrived in Monterey. We thought my dad was the one who would pick us up; instead Henry's mom, Helen, was waiting for us past the gate, an excited smile all over her face.

She hugged me first, then gave her son a proud little smile before pulling him down in her embrace. Henry's lips were set in a thin line the entire time but I spied something there in his eyes, a spark that looked a lot like optimism.

At my insistence, Helen parked the car in her driveway so that Henry and I could just walk over to my parents' house. The moon was bright in the night sky, illuminating the streets with a soft bluish light. I hoped wildly that the next few days would be just as clear and mild.

“What are you thinking?” Henry asked as we walked up to the house.

“That it doesn't rain on Sunday,” I replied.

We stood at the front door and just gazed at each other. “I can't believe it's really happening,” Henry said, breaking the silence.

“Not too late to back out,” I joked weakly.

He touched my cheek. “There's no way I'm backing out. You're stuck with me forever.” He rolled the luggage out of the way and stood closer. “I was just having a hard time believing that in two days, I'll be your husband and you'll be my wife. If anything, I'm a little worried that it won't happen because I want it so badly.”

“It'll happen,” I said, touching his cheek.

He was dipping his head to kiss me when the front door suddenly burst open and Will came out, interrupting the moment.

“Hey, Grandma, they're here!” he called back over his shoulder. He grabbed my hand and tugged. “Come on, guys.”

Henry shook his head as he gathered the bags, a tiny smile playing along his lips. “That kid has interruption down to an art form,” he muttered. “Exactly like his dad.”

Julie slept in the guest room at my parents' house that night while Will had the distinct pleasure of sleeping in Jason's old room. My mom had taken great care to put out Jason's old toys and photos, showing each one to a rapt Will. I don't know if he gets it right now—that he is sleeping in the very same bed that his dad used to or that he's playing with the same toys—but my hope is that one day, he will come to know his father in some small way through Jason's old things. Maybe then Will won't grow up feeling like he never knew his dad at all.

The day before the wedding was insanely crazy. Everyone was out running errands, tying up loose ends. Julie, Mom, and I were in a mad dash to finish the decorations, putting together the floral centerpieces and filling seashells with wax to use as candles on the table. Meanwhile Dad and Henry worked in the garage to finish building the archway that was to be our backdrop during the ceremony. Henry's parents were busy with work, as usual, but they both came home early enough to help out with whatever they could.

The rehearsal dinner consisted of just the two families sharing some salad and lasagna at the Logans' house. It was cozy and warm, full of laughter and nervous energy. Every now and then my eyes flitted across the table to find Henry watching me and we'd share a secret little smile.

“To Elsie,” Dad said near the end of dinner, giving me a warm look. “You will always be my little girl.”

We raised our glasses for the toast.

“And to Henry,” he continued. “Who's been trying to infiltrate my family for years and, it looks like, will finally succeed.”

We all laughed as we toasted, our stomachs full and our hearts overflowing.

Finally, the big day arrived and the entire household was thrown into chaos. Mom rushed around trying to get everyone ready, very nearly freaking out until Julie calmed her and said she'd help with the decorations.

“What about Will?” Mom asked, her hair only half styled.

“I'm all ready!” Will announced, standing there in his little tan suit, complete with a blue tie.

“You look so handsome,” I said, the sight of him bringing tears to my eyes, making me wish for the millionth time that Jason was here to join in the celebrations. I took deep breaths to collect myself, to keep the tears from ruining my makeup.

The cake was delivered to our house, three-tiered and entirely white with swirly detailing at the bottom of each layer. The topper was the iconic LOVE logo in blue, with the O taken out and the wonky rock glued in its place. It was perfect.

I had only one glimpse of it before it was taken, along with the rest of the decorations, to where both fathers were setting up on the beach.

My dress was a sleeveless mermaid-style gown with a beaded belt and three layers of organza ruffles past the knee, and my curly hair was swept off to the side with a crystal hairpin. When I was finished dressing, I stood in front of the mirror, completely taken aback by the person staring back. She was absolutely glowing.

Mom had tears in her eyes as she stood behind me. I always knew she would cry at my wedding but I was not at all prepared to see her breaking down so soon. “You're beautiful, sweetheart,” she said, pushing a lock of hair off my shoulder. She hugged me from behind and we looked at each other in the mirror, basking in the bittersweet moment. “One story ends and another one begins.”

I grasped her wrists and pulled her arms tighter around me. “I love you, Mom. Thanks for believing in Henry even when I didn't.”

Dad was back from the beach when I emerged from my room. He looked at me with a healthy dose of shock on his face and maybe a hint of sadness. “My little Elsie,” he said, gathering me into his arms for a crushing embrace. “You grew up too fast.”

We all drove to Carmel Beach together and I waited in the car while the guests were seated. My stomach was literally trembling with nerves as I sat in that car and wondered how everything came together. As if reading my mind, Julie messaged me a picture of the beach—of the chairs, the gauze-draped archway, and the handsome groom arriving with his groomsmen.

Seeing that tiny picture made it all the more real. This was really happening. I was really getting married.

Before I could freak out, Henry sent me a message that brought me back on point:
Where are you?

I smiled, imagining him standing by the priest while he texted.
Waiting in the car. Where are you?

I'm here, Elsie. I'm waiting for you.

Then it was time to walk down those sandy steps to the beach, where wooden folding chairs had been set up in two sections and the aisle delineated with gauze and light-colored flowers. At the end was the archway and underneath it stood the priest with the Bible in his hands. The picture had given me an idea of what to expect, but the real thing still managed to take my breath away.

“Ready, sweetie?” Dad whispered, holding out his elbow.

I lifted the bouquet of paper roses higher, tucking my
something borrowed—
Jason's Purple Heart medal—safely inside, then linked my arm with my father's. “Are you?” I teased.

Even though he was smiling, Dad's eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Never.”

The violinist began to play a slow, hopeful tune and we began the march. Julie and Beth walked ahead in their navy blue dresses, and soon strains of the wedding march filled the air. Dad and I walked unhurriedly as I looked around at everyone's face, trying to smile at each and every one of our family and friends. All too soon, we reached the end of the aisle and I finally allowed myself to look up at Henry.

His blue eyes bore down on me, the expression on his face nearly unreadable, but somewhere in that chaos of emotions I saw the one I was searching for: certainty. I let out the breath I'd been holding for months, finally surfacing from the depths of insecurity.

My dad kissed my cheek before he handed me off to Henry with a handshake. Dad clapped Henry on the shoulder and said, “Take care of her, son.”

Henry performed a perfect salute and said, “Yes, sir.”

And then it was just us: Henry and me together under the clear blue sky. The waves behind us played a soothing symphony as the priest began the ceremony, welcoming everyone to the joining of our hearts.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from Henry, from his handsome face, the khaki suit, and blue tie that matched his eyes. His hair was brushed away from his face with a few loose locks waving in the ocean breeze.

“You look beautiful,” he mouthed at me.

I smiled up at him, too overwhelmed with emotions to move. I only clutched at his hand tighter, hoping to never wake from this dream.

When it came time for the rings, Henry crouched down next to his tiny best man. “You got the rings, buddy?”

Will nodded and reached into his pants pocket. He leaned in to Henry and said, “I wanted you to marry my mom.”

I fought to contain my laughter but Henry only shrugged. “I'm marrying your aunt, so that means I'll be your real uncle.”

“I wanted you to be my dad.”

“Uncles are better than dads, though,” he said so that only Will and I could hear. “Dads have to enforce the rules. Uncles, on the other hand, can be cool and buy you lots of toys and spoil you like crazy.”

Will's face lit up. “You're right! That's better!”

Henry stood up with the rings in his hands, allowing me a glimpse of the downcast expression on his face before it was replaced with a smile.

“Jason's here,” I whispered to him as he took my left hand. “He's here with us.”

And then came time to say our vows, before God and our witnesses.

Henry was first to go. He took a deep breath before starting. “I, Henry Logan, take you Elsie to be my wife, my equal, my best friend. I promise to love and cherish you, to be there for you whenever you need me. I promise to respect you, to remain faithful, to keep you safe, but most of all, I promise to love you with everything I am even after I spend my last day on earth.

“Els, I haven't always done the right thing, but I promise to you that I will strive to become the man you deserve. I loved you then, I love you now, and I will love you always.”

I wiped away a tear as I held his hand, the wedding band poised over his finger. It took me a minute to collect myself, to keep from bursting into delirious tears, but I finally managed. “I, Elsie Sherman, take you Henry to be my husband,” I began softly. “I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your dreams, to honor and respect you for as long as we both shall live.”

The priest opened his mouth to continue when I gave him a little shake of the head. A soft titter went through the crowd.