Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Instead, I watch as more float to the ground and finally, after what feels like an eternity, she breaks the silence. “I’m sorry, King,” she says, her voice trembling. “My fears and insecurities got the best of me.” She pauses, glancing up at me. “My past with Scott, and his words about you being a young, single athlete surrounded by women all the time… it really messed with my head. I was confused when I walked into your condo and wanted nothing more than to just sit down and purge all that out and then have you reassure me. But instead, I found Emily there and I don’t know if I’ve ever been madder about anything in my life.”
Her hands clench at her sides. “I know it was wrong of me to storm out and even more wrong not to stay and talk, but I was almost blind with the emotion of it all. In hindsight, I think it might be because I finally thought I’d found the one person I’m supposed to be with.”
Her words touch me deeply. They’re the words I’ve been wanting to hear and I reach out to touch her face, but she shakes her head. “Let me finish.”
“Okay, finish,” I say, but I take her hand, unwilling to not touch her.
She smiles at me, amused. “I’ve thought a lot these last few days. I had to really think about who you are as a person, the man I’ve come to know.” The chilled breeze rustles through her hair as she gazes up at me with regret-filled eyes. “You mean everything to me, King, and the thought of not being with you is unbearable.” A single tear slips down her cheek and I don’t hold back on my touch. I wipe it off with a bare finger. “I should have stayed and talked things out instead of running away. I’m truly sorry.”
I swallow hard as Willa’s words wash over me. Her apology is sincere—I can see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. The snow falls heavier as we face each other and my heart aches at the sight of her sadness.
Cupping her cheeks in my hands, I bend closer to her. “Thank you for saying that. And I understand where you’re coming from. I can totally see how all of those events were overwhelming to you.”
She nods in relief, a tiny laugh coming out. “I was so afraid I’d waited too long to tell you this.”
“I’d wait forever for you,” I assure her. “And I need to know that you know that I would never do anything to hurt you. I’ll never keep anything from you again, no matter how small it is. You’re my person and I’ll share everything with you. I’ve missed you, babe.”
Another laugh, this time punctuated with a tiny sob that she quickly reins in. “I’ve missed you. You’re my person too. And… well, I love you, King. Please forgive me for doubting you. For doubting us.”
My head swims at her admission. In my wildest dreams, I didn’t think I’d hear her say those words. Despite the strides she’s made after exiting an abusive relationship and her past dysfunctional family life, I thought this would be a long work-in-progress and I was willing to be patient.
But now I can’t stop myself. I jerk her into a hug and press my face into her neck. “I love you too, Willa. So much.”
She pulls back, lifts her face to me. “Let’s make this work,” she whispers.
“Together,” I agree, feeling like I could conquer the world right now.
Our lips meet in a slow, tender kiss, filled with promises of a brighter future. Snow hits my face but I ignore it.
Just as I ignore a family walking by us and the kids giggling as we kiss. Finally, I release her and ask, “Shall we get a tree?”
Willa beams at me. “I think we shall.”
Hand in hand, we turn back toward the rows, ready to pick out our first Christmas tree together, or at least the first for my condo. She and Brittany already have their tree, but who knows… maybe this time next year, there will only be one tree needed for Willa and me.
We walk through the lot, surrounded by the fresh scent of pine, the falling snow setting the stage for a winter wonderland. Each tree looks perfect in its own right, even the ones with holes and flaws. They have character.
“Do you have a favorite?” I ask Willa playfully, squeezing her hand.
Willa smiles up at me, her eyes shining with excitement. “Something tall and full.”
I scan the rows of trees until I spot the perfect candidate. “How about that one?” I point to a tall, full Fraser fir, its branches coated with a dusting of snow.
Willa’s face lights up. “That’s the one.”