Chapter Twenty
MARINA
PAST
“All of the best rom-coms come from the nineties,” I say. “ Notting Hill, Ten Things I Hate About You, Runaway Bride, Dirty Dancing —okay technically that was late eighties but nonetheless, it’s the best. Pretty Woman .”
“So really you just love Julia Roberts,” Miles says from his spot on the couch.
“It was her era!” I say, pulling the popcorn from the beeping microwave and drizzling melted butter over the top. “It’s not my fault she was cast in all of the best ones. My Best Friend's Wedding ? Another classic.”
Miles just chuckles, shaking his head. “Your brain is a mystery to me, you know?”
“How?” I ask through a mouth full of crunch, buttery, deliciousness as I walk over to the couch.
“I swear I learn a new thing about you every day.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” I plonk down beside him. “You did want to know more about me than my favorite color, remember?”
He reaches into the popcorn bowl, collecting a handful. “Yeah, I remember, princess. ”
“Oh! Miss Congeniality !” I interrupt him. “Wait, no, that was Sandra Bullock.”
He just chuckles through his nose. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I thought I was remarkable?” I turn to face him.
He wraps his arms around me, dragging me into his side. “You are ridiculous,” he kisses my nose. “Remarkable.” A kiss to my neck. “Outrageous.” My shoulder.
“Outrageous?!” I ask, but can’t help the giggle when his lips meet the inside of my elbow.
“Beautiful. Intelligent. Captivating,” he carries on, planting kisses all over my body. “You make me feel things I never thought I would feel, could feel.”
My breath stalls in my lungs, I can’t even exhale, not while he’s looking at me like he is right now. Like I’m the center of his world. I think he’s the center of mine too.
“What do you want for yourself?” he asks in the wake of my silence. “For your life, for your future. What do you want?”
His voice holds a simple curiosity, but there's a look in his eyes as he waits for my answer. Like he’s more than just curious, like he’s desperate to know.
I don’t have to think for long; I’ve always wanted the same thing.
I lay back on the couch, letting my legs fall over his lap.
“I want to be surrounded by love. I want to own a bar that people love to work in, and love to drink in. I want to have friends of my own, a group of girls I can rely on no matter what. Don’t get me wrong, my cousin’s friends are essentially my brothers at this point, and I know they look out for me like brothers would but…
I don’t know.” I shake my head, fighting off all of the images that float into my brain, but Miles just looks at me, waiting for me to spit it out.
“You know I’m an only child, and my parents are amazing, I couldn’t have asked for a better upbringing,” I cringe internally thinking about Miles’s own upbringing, but he doesn’t so much as blink.
“But I always wished our family was bigger. That’s what I want more than anything.
I want a loving husband, a house with a garden big enough that however many kids we have can run around and be free.
I want to be a good mother, I want a family of my own, and a big kitchen where I can bake at midnight if I really wanted to.
That’s all I’ve ever really wanted for myself. ”
He looks at me like I just told him he’s having a life-saving surgery, like a surge of relief, and happiness is flowing through him, but also like a little part of him wants to cry. I don’t know what to make of it.
He shovels a handful of popcorn in his mouth, promptly avoiding anything that might have been said.
“What do you want, Miles?”
He scratches the back of his head, almost as if it’s a question he’s never been asked. “I’ve never really thought about it.”
I sit up. “What do you mean? You’ve never imagined what your future would look like?”
He gives his head a subtle shake. “I don’t—” He lets out a breath. “I mean, I have wondered what I’ll do. But the vision has always been…blurry, I guess. All I’ve known is that I want to be a pilot, that I want to be a captain. Anything beyond that has always felt—I don’t know.”
I just grab his hand in mine, our fingers slipping together. I can’t imagine having no idea how I wanted my life to pan out. I know things don’t always go to plan, but I’ve always had one.
I can’t help but wonder whether being a pilot really is his dream, or if he merely thinks that’s what his dream should be. If it’s just what he thinks he should be chasing, because that’s all he’s ever been told to chase.
“But your vision,” he says quietly, “that sounds like it might be alright.”