Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
The Walters laugh.
“How could I not?” I add. “He’s got the kindest, most generous and beautiful soul imaginable. He doesn’t open up easily, but when he opened up to me, I fell madly in love with what I saw, and there was no turning back. I was a goner.” I look away from Max, feeling like I’ve bared too much to him. Made myself too vulnerable.
“That’s exactly how it was with Wayne and me,” Mrs. Walters says. “I wasn’t looking for a relationship when I met him. I was simply trying to survive with three small children. But he walked into the charity where I worked and it was like being struck by lightning for us both. Bam.”
Max clears his throat. “That’s exactly how it felt when I saw Marnie for the first time. Like I’d been struck by lightning.” He looks at me. “Bam.”
My heart skips a beat.
“Good for you for following your heart, Max,” Mr. Walters pipes in to say. “My mother was a single mother, just like Marnie. Exact same sort of thing, so I never knew my father. When I was around Ripley’s age, she married my stepfather, and that man has been a father to me, ever since. The best father imaginable.”
“That’s what Wayne has been to our kids. He’s their daddy, along with their daddy in heaven.”
Jesus Christ. Where did these tears come from? I suddenly can’t hold them back.
As I wipe my eyes with one hand, Max grabs the other and kisses the top of it, the same way Mr. Walters did to his wife’s hand a moment ago. And that’s it. I’m no longer falling in love with Max. I’m there. I’ve fallen. My brain knows he’s only putting on a show. Mirroring what Mr. Walters did to win favor with him. But my stupid heart doesn’t know the difference between what’s real and what’s fake, and it’s exploding with love at Max’s gentle, affectionate gesture.
“Look at that engagement ring!” Mrs. Walters says. Max bringing my hand to his mouth has shown it off, apparently. Is that what Max was intending to do—show off the ring—rather than sincerely comfort me when I started crying?
I wipe my eyes again and smile. “Oh, yes, thank you. I couldn’t believe my eyes when Max dropped to his knee and proposed to me with it. He really outdid himself.”
Mrs. Walters gasps and places her hand on her chest, displaying an asteroid-sized diamond on her third finger. “How did Max propose? Tell me everything. I’m a sucker for proposal stories.”
Fuck. Max and I never talked about this. I think we meant to do it. It was on our list of details to hash out. But somehow, we got distracted and never got around to it.
I look at Max for help, but he says, “You tell it, honey. I love hearing you tell it.” He grins at me, but his blue eyes are screaming, “Shit! How could we overlook this detail?”
“With pleasure,” I say smoothly. I return to the Walters. “It was perfect. Nothing elaborate. Just heartfelt. We were having a little barbeque at the house with our best friends and family to celebrate Max getting a big win for a client at work.” Ha. Had to throw that in there. “And midway through the party, Max asked everyone to gather around for a toast, at which point he kneeled before me, ring in hand, and asked me to be his wife in front of everyone we love the most, including Ripley.”
“Awww,” Mrs. Walters says. “Perfect.”
I smile at Max. “After kneeling before me, Max kneeled before Ripley, too, and asked her if he could be her daddy.”
Mrs. Walters loses her goddamned mind. She looks at her husband with tears in her eyes and says, “Honey, are you hearing all this?”
“I am,” he says.
“What a beautiful story!” she gushes. “What a beautiful family!”
“Thank God they both said yes,” Max says. “I was sweating it.”
“You were not,” I tease. “You knew I’d say yes.”
“No, I knew Ripley would say yes,” Max counters, making the Walters laugh. “But I wasn’t positive about you. You never even wanted to date me in the beginning. I was scared to death you’d turn me down.”
I look at our audience. “I’m ten years older than Max and a single mother to boot. In the beginning, I was convinced we were at different stages of our life. I kept telling him he didn’t know what he was getting himself into. But he was persistent. And convincing. And soon, I was powerless to resist him.”
“When did the tide turn for you?” Mrs. Walters asks, her dark eyes blazing. “Do you remember when you realized you couldn’t help falling in love with him, whether you wanted to do it or not?”
“I sure do. I remember the exact moment. I’d had an emergency at work one day, so Max picked up Ripley from preschool for me and took her back home. That evening, when I got home, I discovered Max bound to a chair by toilet paper, with makeup smudged all over his face and glitter in his hair and a tiara on his head. He’d let Ripley give him a princess makeover. She was his fairy godmother, and he was Cinderella.” I look at Max. “That was the precise moment I knew he was the man of my dreams.”