“I can’t turn back time. And you are right the other day when you said that our past actions don’t define us. That they can’t define us if we’re ever going to move on. But it doesn’t mean that I can’t try to make things right. I know I hurt you that day. I know I hurt you a lot more than that day, and I’m sorry for that. I know it’s not an excuse, but I was so far gone, so deep in that world that I didn’t know just how awful I was being. I didn’t know that until later.
“I got this for you as a reminder. Both for you and for me, that I can be better. Consider it my first step.”
I haven’t been able to look away from the toy, but her words drag my eyes to hers. “You’ve apologized more than enough, Monica. You know that, right?”
She nods, and I see the seriousness in her eyes. “I do know. But that doesn’t alleviate all of my guilt. Neither does this. But I want to try.”
I put the toy in the box on the table in front of me and pull her against me so that she’s nearly in my lap. I kiss her, and I don’t feel like I can stop. I kiss her until I feel like I’m going to pass out from lack of oxygen, and it’s only then that I let go. “I love you, so much. And even though you don’t need to apologize, and you don’t need to feel guilty, I’m grateful for the gesture.”
She blushes my favorite shade of pink, and looks away. I drag her gaze back to mine, and make her look at me. The fragile emotion I see there makes my heart skip a beat. I love to see that love in her eyes. I’m looking forward to seeing it on our wedding day. “How did you know? Which version to get? You actually remember that after all these years?”
Monica laughs, shaking her head. “Honestly, no. I didn’t. So I went to the people that I knew would.”
Shock strikes me. “You asked my parents?”
“I did.”
I recognize the weight of the gesture now. It wasn’t just about the Game Boy. It was about her reaching out to my parents regardless of their feelings about her. I haven’t heard from them the last couple days, and I don’t know their decision. In the end, it won’t matter. I’m going to stay with Monica no matter what. But the fact that they spoke with her, and gave her the information that she needed, gives me hope. “That was brave of you,” I say.
She smiles. “They were actually nice. When I explained what I needed and why I was doing it, they were more than happy to help. I think they may actually not hate me as much as they thought. We have a shot of getting them to come to the wedding.”
I laugh, a laugh freer than I felt in a long time, because everything is absolutely perfect. I used to think my life was perfect, with my wealth and my job and having risen above my circumstances. But it wasn’t. Now, with this gorgeous, brave woman in my life, it is.
I crush her to me, hugging her so hard that I feel her back crack and she makes a sound in protest. But then were both laughing, and soon after that, we’re kissing. I love Monica Blast, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Epilogue
Monica
One Month Later
I shouldn’t be this nervous for my wedding to a man that I’m already married to, but I can’t seem to escape the butterflies in my stomach. I’ve been ready for a while, but it’s still a few minutes until the ceremony starts. I haven’t seen Daniel since last night, and he’s the only person I really want to see. So much has changed so quickly, but he’s the only person who can ease this anxiety.
I want him to kiss me, and tell me he loves me like he does every morning now.
But anxiety aside, the wedding is going to be perfect. We are in a beautiful vineyard in Southern California. The weather is perfect, and I couldn’t ask for a better setting for my wedding. Alex came through on the dress, and I’ve never felt as beautiful as I do now. It’s gorgeous and flowing while at the same time comfortable and sleek and stylish.
There’s a knock at the door, and I jump. “Come in.”
The door opens, and Daniel’s hand waves through. “I was told that I was not allowed to come in here without a blindfold,” he says. “Alex threatened my manhood if I dared to look at the dress before the wedding, so I am here appropriately attired.”
I laugh, and pull him into the room. True to his word, he’s wearing a blindfold. “I swear, I won’t tell if you don’t,” I say.