Quirks & Kinks (34 page)

Authors: Laurel Ulen Curtis

I stared at him, wide-eyed.

“Do you want us to die?”

At my silence, he asked again. “Do you?”

I shook my head in wonder.

“I, for one, am against it. So, you see, I point out your flaws for our welfare.” His face was grave. “I’m doing this for us.”

He’d really come into his own since he’d proposed, joking more than ever and even taking the opportunity to relax every once in a while. Before our blowout, you would have never been able to find him on the couch, snuggling and watching TV. If he wasn’t sleeping or fucking, he wasn’t horizontal. But not anymore.

Though, he made plenty of time for those too.

Now he lounged. Now he loved.

And I loved experiencing every minute of it.

Years had been leading up to this moment, the night before my wedding with my future bride in my bed. Everything about her enhanced everything about me, and I couldn’t wait to make her my wife.

But, as always, Evan had been on my mind, but it was even more than usual.

I didn’t know if it was the momentous nature of the occasion, or if he was trying to tell me something, but I’d spent the last forty-five minutes in bed, trying to figure out what it meant and what that meaning meant practically for me.

Finally, like the flipping of a switch the answer hit me, and I knew what I needed to do. Easing myself out of the bed without waking her, I padded down the hall, into the living room, and pulled open my standing cabinet.

Paper and pen were easily accessible, kind of as if they had been there waiting for me to use them.

I pushed the cabinet door closed with a soft click, made my way to the dimly lit couch and leaned forward onto the sturdy coffee table.

Pen in hand, deep breath in lungs, I put pen to paper and wrote.

Even I was surprised by the way all of my emotion poured out.

Dear Evan,

Hey Little Brother! How’s Heaven?

Is it really and truly a better place? Everyone says it is, and trust me, with you there, I’m hoping they’re right. But for the first time ever, I’m not really sure.

See, I finally understand the point of everything you said to me while you were here.

Since you left, I’ve been making sure to live all of your dreams for you. I hope you’ve seen me. I hope I’ve made you proud.

But none of them made me dream bigger, made me live a whole life outside of my body.

Something, that just recently, I finally managed to do.

I’m in love.

You’d really like her. She’s fucking hilarious. And she loves it when I tease her. She pretends not to, but her eyes light up and get soft. I’ve never really seen anything like it. And I’ve had the absolute best time learning all of her looks and cues. Even the ones that mean she’s seriously pissed off at me. In some ways, those are the best expressions of all.

I guess what I’m saying is I’m finally living free and breathing easy. Well, I guess technically, I’m breathing Easie. That’s her name. Can you believe that?

I’m hoping you can feel it—that God will make it count for the both of us.

I’ll always miss you.

But you know that.

Love, Anderson

Sneaking back into our bedroom on quiet feet, I tucked the crisply folded paper into the breast pocket of my tuxedo.

Evan would walk down the aisle with me tomorrow—walk with me on my on my journey one last time—as I officially transitioned from living his life, to mine.

The End

I’m extremely fortunate to have tons of supportive people in my life. But, as always, the first person I have to thank is my mom. She’s the first person to have eyes on my book, even when it’s in pieces, and is an invaluable source of encouragement and wisdom. And she’s not a bad editor either. Lol! Thanks, Mamalicious!

Alison and Kelly—Thanks for beta-ing for me. You did a terrific job. Or, you did a terrible job, and people can blame you for this shitty product. Just kidding!

My proofreaders! I can’t even. You’re too much. I expect T-shirts within the next week.

My author friends. There are a ton of you, and you’re all AWESOME. Thank you for sprinting with me, pushing me to keep writing, lifting me up, and assuring me that I really COULD do this. M. Mabie, Aly Martinez, NA Alcorn, and Tara Sivec: I feel like I was separated at birth from all of you.

Book, B*tches, & Balderdash ladies. You guys are SO much fun! I legiterally have no words for you. None. I think I ran out of all of them talking in our group. Thank you for being some of the MOST awesome people I’ve ever met. Fuck Isaac!

Blogs. Um, hello, none of us could do this without you. I
definitely
couldn’t do this without you. You all work so hard, and so many of you have supported me in ways that I can never thank you enough for. But I’ll try. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’d list you, but then I’ll forget someone and be devastated. Bad mojo.

You. The readers. Sweet baby Jesus, you guys are awesome. Every message, every comment—they mean
everything
to me. I spend hundreds of hours working on these books, and just one message from one of you—someone who saw something in my book, was touched in some special way—makes it worth it. Every word written is mined from me, but I go in search of them for you. Please keep reading. I’ll love you forever.

And, of course, I have to thank my family. My husband and son sacrifice the most, going without food and attention in order to let me push through to my deadline. The BIGGEST reason I fear having a stalker is that they would see how messy my house is through the windows. Thank you for your support and for believing that this book is going to be something big.

Laurel Ulen Curtis is a 28 year old mother of one. She lives with her husband and son (and cat!) in New Jersey, but grew up all over the United States. She graduated from Rutgers University in 2009 with a Bachelor of Science in Meteorology, and puts that to almost no use other than forecasting for her friends and writing a storm chasing heroine! She has a passion for her family, laughing, and reading and writing Romance novels. She’s also addicted to Coke. The drink, not the drug.

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Other Books by
Laurel
:

The One Series:

The One Place

The One Girl

Huntsford Hearts:

Impossible