The F-Word

I pull the car under a tree, get out, go around to Bailey’s side. She’s sitting perfectly still and since I know she’s not the kind of woman to wait for a man to open a door for her, it scares me that she’s not moving.

I reach for the door, but she beats me to it, unlatches the door and steps from the car.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” she says softly. “About this land?”

“Yes.”

She starts up the slope beside me. There’s a light breeze. It ruffles her hair.

It’s as if the place has been waiting for her.

We reach the top. She catches her breath.

“Oh,” she whispers, “It’s beautiful.”

I nod. It is beautiful. The land. The trees. The view. The sense of being alone on the planet.

Alone, but not lonely. Not anymore.

How come I never realized that? That I was lonely? That I would never know joyfulness until I found the missing half of my soul?

I take a deep breath and clasp Bailey’s shoulders as she stands with her back to me.

“Bailey,” I say. “there’s no easy way to tell you this…”

She turns towards me. She’s crying, and I reach out and brush the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs.

“It’s all right,” she says. “There’s nothing to apologize for. What happened this weekend was—it was everything I’d ever dreamed. It’s what I meant when I said I was the one who’d lied because—because I’d always wanted you, Matthew. I was a fool to let myself give in to worrying about what others would think. I have no regrets. Not one. I want you to know that, but I can’t keep working with you. It’s too much, too much, too much—”

There’s only one way to silence her and I take it.

I cup her face. I capture her lips. I kiss her with everything I am, everything I hope to be.

I kiss her with all the love in my heart.

“I love you,” I say against her mouth. “I’ve loved you for years. I’ve loved you forever.” She stares at me. “Bailey? Did you hear what I said? I love—”

She says my name. And, hell, she’s crying even harder than she was a couple of seconds ago.

“Honey,” I say, “please, don’t cry. I never meant to make you cry.”

“Matthew.” She rises on her toes and clasps my face. “Matthew, say it again.”

“Say what again? That I love you?”

“Yes,” she says, and now she’s laughing and crying at the same time. “Tell me that you love me, because I love you with all my heart.”

I take a deep breath. “Bailey. Sweetheart. Will you marry me?”

Another woman might drag out the moment. Give her man a little punishment. But this isn’t another woman, this is my woman. My PA.

My Bailey.

“Yes,” she says, “yes, yes, yes!”

* * *

So, yeah, what I told you at the beginning was true.