Chapter 45
I read Dad’s letter one more time.
Hey kid—
If you’re reading this, you’ve either found your soul mate, or are being incredibly reckless with your heart. Either way, congratulations.
P.S. I’m not sure what condition Logan was in when he handed this envelope to you, but in my heart of hearts, I hope like hell he was smiling when he gave it to you . . . and if he wasn’t, go easy on the man today.
I’m gonna be real with you for a second.
You’re a lot like your mom. Beautiful, smart, and kind, but you also possess the same spark she did.
She didn’t just light up faces when she walked into a room, she lit the whole damn house on fire.
That’s a lot to handle for most people. So, I pray whoever you picked showed up with a box of matches and not an extinguisher.
Don’t fall for weak men who try to shrink you in order to make it easier on themselves.
Extinguishers don’t stand a chance with an Everhart woman.
You want someone who will help you burn brighter and hotter, who will feed and fan your flames until the whole place burns to the ground.
Remember what I said about seeing yourself in them? Who you choose to spend your life with matters not just on the day of your wedding, but every fucking day, because that’s what love takes. You have to choose each other every day. Life will try to come between you. Choose each other anyway.
If he’s your soul mate—really your soul mate—then you’ll always pick each other no matter what tries to pull you apart. Even when you’re both full of piss and vinegar. Even when your pride is too great. Even when it hurts.
Love you.
Dad
I wipe my tears away. It feels like the two of them are conspiring against me.
The velvet box is heavier than it looks.
I open it and take another peek at the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.
Delicate and dazzling. I should have expected this from him.
Something with this kind of attention to detail, something so perfect and exactly what I would have chosen for myself.
Logan shouldn’t have made that decision for me. He messed up. Badly. But we aren’t done yet.
I remove the sparkling promise from the box and slip it on my left ring finger.
I’m choosing to wear it.
I’m choosing him. Even when it hurts.
Holding my hand in front of me, I bite my lip with a small smile. I can’t help it. I’m still pissed, but not as much as I once was. One diamond ring—one really gorgeous diamond ring—doesn’t wipe the slate clean, but it gives us a chance. And we’re worth a chance.
We’ve done this whole thing in reverse. First marriage, then a proposal .
. . but stunning diamonds and paper certificates are meaningless without his love.
I appreciate him letting me have my emotions.
Just because I’m not ready to hear the words today doesn’t mean it’s not the thing I’ve waited the longest to hear and what I’ve craved the most.
After folding the letter, I carefully place it back into the envelope, and then Frankie pops her head into my station. “Hey, I’m on my way out, but there’s a Rosa up at the desk for you?”
Casper pauses outside my station, glancing down at my finger briefly and whistling. I tuck my hand into my pocket before Frankie sees and causes a scene. She’s going to lose her fucking mind when I tell her. Casper heads back to Logan’s office and shuts the door behind him.
“She’s here?”
It feels like weeks since I saw her last after everything that’s happened.
“Oh. Yeah! I’ll be right up.”
I head to the front and there she is, wearing a smile on her face and enormous sunglasses. “Hey!”
She wraps me in a tight hug, then pushes me to arm’s length. “I know. I’m ambushing you. But it’s my last night, let’s go grab a drink. Happy hour. My treat. I won’t take no for an answer.”
I hesitate. Not because I don’t want to see her, because I do—but Logan was going to take me home, and it’s not like we have a shortage of things to talk about.
“Yeah. Yeah, just let me just go tell Logan. He was my ride.”
“No biggie, I can drop you off afterward.” She waves me off, backing out the door. “I’ve got the rental car out front. Just come find me when you’re done.”
I head back and knock on Logan’s office door.
“Later!” he barks.
Yikes.
I’m sure Casper is in there giving him hell about the ring. Instead, I pull out my phone and text him.
It’s Rosa’s last night in town and I told her I’d see her before she heads out. I’m going to have a couple drinks and then she’ll bring me to your place. Promise. I’ve got my key.
I wait for three dots to pop up, but it’s still unread. A car horn honks in the distance, so I clutch my purse and stuff my phone inside, then hurry out the front door. Just one drink. Two tops.
I already made my choice; the ring is on my finger. I’m sure he’s not going to like it, but he needs to give me this. This will be a good way for him to show he can trust me. I’m safe with friends. He has her number. We’re good.
Rosa honks again before I’m even off the curb.
I climb into the spotless car and reach for the seat belt to buckle up, and Rosa snatches my left hand.
“Oh my God!” Her grip tightens as she glares at the ring. “Is this—is this—”
I blink at her, wearing a guilty smile and shrugging. “It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.” She scoffs, shoving me away from her. I’m not sure she has enough time for this one. “I just saw you! When did this even happen?”
“Technically—” I sigh. “We’re already married. That’s the long part . . . Remember when I was in Montana for the expo and we were out getting drinks? Apparently, I was also getting married.”
“You know?” she asks.
I cock my head. “Know what?”
“I mean, he’s just telling you this now? That was weeks ago! He didn’t tell you until now?” she shrills.
I nod. “Yeah. It’s called a proxy marriage, it’s legal in Montana. Yes, yes, it’s crazy. I-I don’t know. It’s a weird situation.”
Her jaw unhinges, and she stares at me. But she’s not really looking at me, she’s looking through me. “And now he gave you a ring?”
“I didn’t know until recently. Really recently,” I say, trying to ease the weird vibe. “I was livid when I found out. I’m still mad . . .”
Her eyes focus on me again.
“So when is the divorce party?” she asks, putting the car in gear and pulling away from the shop.
I chuckle. “I understand it looks bad. However . . . I can’t walk away. I’m not okay with what happened, but . . . I love him more than I hate him.”
“Kelly!” She barks out a humorless laugh; it’s loud and strange, almost like a scream. “He’s being controlling! You aren’t in love, you have Stockholm syndrome!”
“It’s not a flattering look.” I unlock my phone, checking to see if he read my text. Not yet.
“Give that to me,” she says, glancing down at it in my lap.
“My phone?”
She steals it off my lap. “Wait—” I reach for it.
“Chill out. I’m just checking something . . .”
I keep my attention on the road since hers isn’t. She taps the screen a couple times and gasps. “Look!” She holds it out in front of me. “He’s been tracking your location!”
I take my phone back and roll my eyes. “He’s being protective. That’s only because of the stalker stuff.”
“No, he’s being domineering. You need to know the difference. I really think you need to look into a lawyer.”
An uncomfortable silence hangs between us. I totally understand where she’s coming from. It doesn’t matter how many excuses I make for him—saying You don’t know him like I do isn’t going to help the situation at all, it just makes me sound like a stereotype.
“Sorry, it’s just . . . that’s crazy. That’s insane behavior. You know that, right?”
“I do,” I confirm. She’s right, it is crazy. “But he didn’t do it for control.” Well, not all for control. He was trying to save Black Rabbit and me. If he hadn’t saved my dad’s shop, there’s no way I could have.
I explain some of the details but jump around a lot in the story because she keeps interrupting with more questions. I can’t blame her, it’s a lot to take in. After a few minutes, she turns onto Hartford Avenue. Wait a minute, this is a residential neighborhood.
I furrow my brow and look around. “I thought we were going out for happy hour?”
“After what you just told me? Absolutely not! I need to hear the rest of this story without any distractions or having to talk over people.”
“Aren’t you staying at the hotel?”
“What?” She pulls into a driveway and parks. “No, this is my Airbnb.”
“We’re really close to Logan’s loft, I can practically see it from here.” Damn, I can just walk home after this.
She reaches into the back seat and grabs a bottle of wine and a bag. “Well, that’s convenient!” she says with a chuckle. “You like reds, right?”
I nod.
“All right! Let’s hear the rest of this shitshow!”