Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
“How do you know this?”
“You’re glowing, and it’s written all over your face,” she says, and I touch my face. “It’s the I got it so fucking good look,” she says and slaps the table. “I want that look.”
“Then go get that look,” Karrie says, picking up her glass of wine. Vivienne just looks over at her and glares. We spend the next two hours snacking on chicken wings and pizza, and when the game finally starts, I take off my jacket and walk to the seat.
“Matthew!” Vivienne yells for my brother when I sit down. He comes forward and looks at her. “Looks like someone just claimed your last sister.” He just shakes his head. “It’s a losing battle.”
I just laugh and then turn to see my father looking at me. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes say it all. He’s both happy and sad that his last daughter has found love. In this wild roller coaster ride.
Chapter Forty
Viktor
“Where are we going?” Zoe asks me as I lead her to a little park I found one day when I was walking around. “Shouldn’t you be at home getting in the zone?”
It’s been two months since I’ve made her mine, and the only time we’ve been apart is when I’m on the road. Which, thank fuck for us, hasn’t been more than we all thought it would be. Tonight, we head into game six of the Stanley Cup. We are one game away from hoisting the cup in the air, but more importantly, I’m one day away from my one-year chip.
One year seems like a lifetime ago, and technically, it was. “It’s going to be so warm later on,” I tell Zoe who just walks next to me holding my hand like she always does. Our lives have merged effortlessly. Slowly, she has been filling up her half of the closet that I gave her, and hopefully, by the time the summer is over, she’ll be “officially” living with me.
We turn down the little path that hides the park. Trees are all around it, and in the middle of the park is green grass with four park benches. The sun breaks through the top of the trees almost like a light shining in from heaven. “What is this place?” she asks while we walk on the pebbled path. “I’ve never seen this place.”
“Don’t tell me that I know of someplace that the big Zoe Stone doesn’t know of?” I joke with her. My girl is killing it and taking names, and I couldn’t be prouder.
“I found this place on my way home one day, and I sat down and just listened to the birds chirping,” I tell her and then finally come into the park, and she’s the light shining in. I couldn’t have asked for a nicer day.
“It’s so pretty,” she says. She sees a potted plant on one of the park benches, and she looks at me. “What is that?”
“Come here. I have to tell you something.”
She stops walking. “If you are going to propose to me, I beg you not to.”
I look at her and try not to laugh. “Would you say no?”
“No,” she says. “But I don’t have any makeup on, and my hair is dirty,” she says, and I walk to her and kiss her. It still feels like the first time. It always feels like the first time.
“I’m not asking you to marry me today,” I tell her. “This is something a bit bigger.” I pull her over to the bench and have her sit down.
“Are you breaking up with me?” she asks, smirking.
“Baby,” I say softly. “No one is breaking up with anyone or getting engaged.”
“Well, you’re scaring me.”
“You know that in recovery, one must go through the twelve steps,” I tell her, and my heart beats so hard in my chest, the sound echoes in my ears. I take a deep breath, but my mouth feels incredibly dry. “They tell you to work on one step a month, own it, do it, and by the end of your year, you will have achieved the twelve steps.” I lean back and take a paper out of my pocket. “Tomorrow is my one-year date.” She nods at me and now wipes a tear from her eye. “But I have one more step I have to do.”
“Viktor,” she whispers my name. “It’s okay to go over the twelve months.” She tries to tell me it’s okay, and if I didn’t love her with everything that I have before this moment, it would change instantly. She is selfless in the way she loves.
“Step five is the hardest step I think I ever did,” I tell her. “It’s writing down all of our faults and finding someone to tell it to.” I look down on the paper that has been folded and unfolded more times than I care to think about. “You see, I made this list in October.” I unfold the paper. “I wrote it, and even while I was writing it, I knew there was only one person I wanted to share it with. One only person I wanted to know about all my wrongs.” I wipe away my own tear now. “It’s been you; it’s always been you,” I tell her, and she leans into me and holds my hand in her lap.