25. Michael #3
“That’s… that’s really soon,” she whispers, and I skate my hands over her arms, trying to keep her warm and melt this wall of ice she’s putting up. Trying to get her to stay with me in the moment. Stay with me forever.
“I know it is,” I start, “and I know it’s asking a lot.”
“What does this mean for us?” She pulls away slightly and although it’s the last thing I want to do, I release my hold. She stays on my lap, but her arms rest on her thighs, fingers worrying the hem of her shirt.
“For us? Well, I’m hoping it means you’ll marry me sooner rather than later,” I say with a laugh, attempting to lighten the mood.
“You can’t be serious.” She levels me with a glare. Guess I crashed and burned on that one. Taking both of her hands in mine, I raise them to my lips and tenderly kiss her ring finger.
“I’m dead serious, Vivian.” I let that soak in for a beat before continuing, “I mean it. I want to marry you, mi amor, and if this means we get married sooner than we originally planned, so much the better. Sure, we could move to Miami right now as an engaged couple, but I want to make it official. Let the whole world know you’re mine and that I’m the luckiest damn man to have you.
I can’t wait to start our life together as husband and wife.
I’m already committed to you. I have been since the moment we met.
I knew you were mine right then, and I’m yours, Vivian.
Every last part of me, it’s all for you. ”
She’s quiet on my lap for a long moment, and I hold my breath, wondering what she’s thinking of all this but too anxious to ask. Until all of a sudden she pulls her hands from mine and bolts up from my legs, putting distance between us.
My hands fist at my sides, willing myself to stay calm as Vivian begins to pace, as if she can outpace her thoughts.
She’s muttering to herself, and I can’t quite make out what she’s saying, only that the words sound agitated.
Is she truly worried or just trying to talk herself out of it?
My shoulders tense and beads of sweat start to trickle down the back of my neck when she starts to speak.
“Michael, I can’t… we can’t…” Her steps zigzag as if she’s not aware of her direction.
“This is crazy,” she whispers, not looking at me.
“Who gets married after two months? Who does that? Only crazy people!” It’s the worst timing but I want to crack a joke and tell her I’m crazy for her.
Because it’s true. But I’m sure she won’t take it that way right now.
This is a lot to take in. Hell, it was a lot for me to move down to Georgia, leaving my family and friends behind.
Miami may only be one state away, but it’s a helluva longer drive.
And a completely different culture. If this is wild for me to think about, it must be ten times more so for her.
I take some deep breaths. Anything to calm my racing pulse as she works this out for herself. As she works out our future.
“Am I crazy?” she mutters to herself. She halts and fixes me with a glare.
“You want me to just uproot my whole life and move somewhere else with you? A far away somewhere else? Miami isn’t exactly a couple exits down the highway, you know.
My whole life is here, my mom, Claire, Raelynn.
This isn’t fair. You can’t just take me away from them, Michael! ” Her voice ends on a near shriek.
Does that mean—am I an asshole to take this as a sign that she’s considering it?
That she’s not just automatically writing it off?
I’m used to making decisions based on my gut; it has served me well.
But Vivian has only spoken in bits and pieces about her past. The little crumbs I get hint at impulsive decisions that she’s regretted later.
I won’t let her regret me. Not ever. But I have to get her on board first. With our life together.
Proceed with caution , I tell myself. This is harder for her than it is for you .
“I know how much you love all of them, mi amor,” I placate. “I’m not trying to take you away, but I am trying to build us a future.” She huffs and resumes her pacing. Measuring my words with precision, I continue, “ Vivian .”
She stops and gives me her full attention. Her arms are trembling just as my hands ache to reach for her, to hold her close as we have this conversation. But I’ll respect her need for physical distance. For as long as I can, anyway.
“Remember what you said to me on the phone that day, when we talked for the first time? About how you loved your job but didn’t want to do it forever?
About how you felt stuck here with the way things were going?
Like life was passing you by?” She looks at me in acknowledgement and surprise.
“Yes, mi amor, I was reading between the lines. No one talks about craving change if they’re content with how things are.
This is an opportunity for us to start something new in our lives.
We can travel and explore—together. We don’t have to stay in the same place.
And my job will pay well enough that you can go back to school if you want.
To take the history classes you loved. You don’t have to work if you’re having a bad fibro day.
We won’t need it. I can provide for you.
For our family. We won’t have to struggle so much.
” She seems to mull it over, but I can practically see her filing that away in her head under “to be dealt with later.”
“But that’s not the issue. Claire needs me,” she continues.
“Yes, she does, right now, anyway. But wasn’t she also the one that encouraged you to live your life? To not wait for happiness?”
“Of course she did. But I’m talking about the restaurant. We’re barely running with a bare-bones crew as it is—”
“What about Derrick? You’ve said he wants to help out more, has ideas for making things better.
He looks like he’d love a chance to step in and help, don’t you think?
” Her eyebrows knit together in irritation.
“Mi amor, I’m being sincere with everything I say.
I will always try to find solutions to our problems. It’s what I do; I’m a problem solver.
I know you’re scared of the idea, but I’m trying to tell you it will be okay.
The relationships we have will change, but they won’t go away just because we’re changing zip codes.
“And as for your mom,” I bring it up because I know it’s a sore spot for my woman, “you’ve told me again and again how you wish your relationship could be different.
I know that it has been difficult. This could be the chance at a new start—for her, too,” I rephrase quickly.
My parents and I might be close, but that doesn’t mean that it has always been easy.
“Sometimes distance brings clarity,” I say, speaking for both our situations.
Vivian resumes her quick strides, her fingers wringing the hem of her shirt as she does.
I can practically see the wheels turning in her head as she walks back and forth.
My skin itches with the need to step in and wrap my arms around her.
To physically give her the reassurance that we can figure things out together.
That she doesn’t have to do it on her own anymore.
It’s killing me to give her the space to work this out for herself.
But right now, I have to show that I can step back and let her, until she accepts that I’m not going anywhere.
“What will people say? They’ll say we’re nuts; that’s what they’ll say!
” she cries out almost despairingly, and my eyebrows furrow, wondering why she feels this so strongly.
I hear the words she’s saying, but they’re lacking conviction.
What’s coming through is confusion. If that’s all it is, then I will clear that up for her right now.
Give her the clarity she needs, remove all her hesitation, all doubt from her mind.
She doesn’t have to decide anything. All she has to do is accept.
“Claire and your mom aside, why do you care?” I ask gently.
“Why do you care what ‘people,’ whoever they are, think? Are they gonna live your life for you?” The look of hurt that washes over her face makes me wish I could take back those words.
For whatever reason, I’ve hit a nerve; something she hasn’t talked to me about before; something we’ll eventually need to discuss.
She’s spiraling, her pacing becoming more frantic, as she thrusts her hands through her hair and tugs at the ends.
“Michael, I… I don’t know if I can do this.
I don’t–don’t have the greatest track record.
” She looks up at me, her eyes beseeching me to understand.
“We just met each other. I figured we had weeks, months to plan. Not just a wedding, but the rest of our lives. To adjust to—well, all of it. And now you’re telling me you want me to just leave everything I know behind and follow you to a strange city where I don’t know anyone but you?
This is crazy. It’s too soon. I love you but—” Her voice chokes on a sob, tears falling freely now.
Her eyes flash green through the wetness.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispers again, looking at her feet, unable to meet my gaze as she starts to walk away from me.
No, no, no! This can’t be happening. My chest tightens painfully as panic begins to take hold. Everything I’ve been looking for might be slipping away. My woman, the love of my life, might not want me as much as I do her.
No . There is no future without her in it. And I refuse to believe she doesn’t love me just as much as I do her.
She just said she loved me, right? So it’s not me. It’s the situation. Just the situation. I can work with that.
I force a few deep breaths into my lungs.
Rationale overcomes my fear, reminding me that I prepared for this outcome too.
Project management makes you account for all variables, and all options include Vivian, no matter what.
Plans can change, but my love will not. Now that I have her in my life, I can’t imagine living without her.
“You do love me, don’t you, mi amor?” I whisper.
The thought that maybe she’s reconsidering more than just the move sends a chill through me.