Chapter Nineteen
The Hail Mary Option
The stench of desperation radiates off me like bad cologne.
I suspect everyone who passes by me smells it.
I'm standing outside Regan's hotel room door with enough flowers to open my own shop and a heart that's beating so hard I swear she must hear it through the walls.
It's been two days since my epic screw-up at the exhibition, and she's barely spoken to me beyond polite necessities. I need to fix my mistake. Right away.
Regan's dad told me, by text, that his daughter is hiding out in a hotel room on the other side of town. Why John Banks wants to help me win his daughter back is a mystery to me. But thank God he did. We've been living together, so she must be seriously heartbroken by my botched proposal.
"Regan?" I knock again, softer this time. "Please, can we talk?"
I hear movement inside the room---the soft padding of feet across carpet, and a pause that stretches my nerves to breaking point. When she finally opens the door, her carefully neutral expression scares me more than if she were screaming at me.
"What's all this?" she asks, eyeing the ridiculous bouquet.
"A pathetic attempt at an apology. Can I come in?"
She steps aside without a word. The door swings wider, and I walk into her temporary sanctuary, careful not to crush the flowers in my hand.
The room is neat but lived in. A suitcase sits open on a luggage rack while her training clothes lie folded beside it.
Her skates rest in their special case by the window.
It's so quintessentially Regan---organized chaos with a method to it.
"I wasn't expecting a botanical garden," she says, her arms crossed as she watches me fumble with the massive bouquet.
"Yeah, well..." I glance around for somewhere to put it and end up awkwardly placing it on the desk. "I might have panicked when the florist asked how many flowers I wanted."
A hint of a smile touches her lips before disappearing again. That tiny glimpse of warmth is all I need to keep going.
"Look, I know I completely botched everything. I ruined your moment in the spotlight with my impulsive, thoughtless proposal." I thrust a hand through my hair. "You deserved better than that. So much better."
Regan leans against the wall, still maintaining a careful distance between us. Then she aims her beautiful blue eyes straight at me. "Why did you do it, Mike? Was it a spur of the moment thing? Or have you been thinking about it?"
I take a deep breath. This is it. The moment of truth.
"I've wanted to marry you since our third date," I admit.
"Remember that night at the pier? When you told me about landing your first double axel as a kid, and how it felt like flying?
The way your face lit up when you described that feeling.
I knew then I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. "
Regan's posture relaxes, but she doesn't move closer. "That was months ago."
"Yeah, I know. I've been thinking about it all this time." I take a tentative step toward her. "I even talked to your dad about it last month."
Her eyebrows shoot up. "You talked to my father? About marrying me?"
"Yep." I laugh nervously. "He was surprisingly not enraged about it. Said he'd 'reserve judgment' until he saw how serious I was."
"And what did you tell him?" Her voice is quieter now, less defensive.
"I assured him I've never been more serious about anything in my life.
" I take another step closer, emboldened when she doesn't back away.
"Regan, what I feel for you is so strong I don't know how to describe it.
I didn't plan to blurt out a proposal at your exhibition.
I had this whole thing planned---dinner at that rooftop restaurant you love, a private moment under the stars, a ring that would make you cry happy tears. "
I reach into my pocket and pull out a small velvet box. Regan's eyes widen, but she doesn't speak.
"Been carrying this around for weeks, waiting for the perfect moment.
" I open the box to reveal a platinum band with a stunning oval diamond surrounded by smaller sapphires that match the color of her eyes.
"But when I saw you out there, being so incredible and perfect and everything I've ever wanted.
..my heart just couldn't hold the words in anymore. "
Tears fill Regan's eyes, and I panic. I'm making it worse.
"I'm not proposing again right now." My vow seems to calm her. "I'm simply trying to explain why I did what I did. I panicked and ruined your moment, and I'm so, so sorry for that."
Regan reaches out and takes the box from my hand, studying the ring inside with an expression I can't quite read. "It's beautiful."
"Just like you," I reply automatically, then wince. "Sorry. That sounded way cheesier out loud than in my head."
To my surprise, she laughs. "This whole situation is so us, isn't it? You, impulsive and passionate. Me, overthinking everything."
I take a chance and move closer, near enough now that I could reach out and touch her if I dared. I ache to pull her close but hold back, not wanting to push my luck. "Yeah, that's us. Completely mismatched on paper but somehow perfect together."
Regan studies the ring again, running her finger along the edge of the box. "When I didn't hear from you after...after what happened, I thought maybe you regretted it. That you'd realized you didn't want to marry me."
"What?" The word comes out as a shocked exhalation. "Regan, no. God, no. I was giving you space. Bohdan and my dad both made it crystal clear that I should back off."
"Bohdan said that?"
"Among other things. Most of which I probably deserved." I rub the back of my neck, feeling awkward. "He's more protective of you than I realized."
"He's been my coach since I was twelve. He's practically family."
After a long moment of silence, I can't stand it anymore.
"I love you," I blurt out. "I've never stopped loving you, not for a second. I just screwed up the delivery in spectacular fashion."
Regan's gaze softens, and I note a hint of the warmth I've been missing. She steps toward me, closing the gap between us. "You did screw up, Mike. But I didn't exactly handle it well either. I should have talked to you instead of running away."
"You had every right to be upset." I risk reaching for her. "But if you're willing to give me another try, I'll do the same for you. And I know just how to do that."
Regan's eyes widen as I drop to one knee, pulling out the engagement ring I bought for her, and hold the box up for her to see. "Let's forget about everyone else and and their ideas of what we should do. I love you, Regan, and it would be my honor to marry you. Will you be my fiancée?"
She sniffles while tears dribble down her cheeks. "Aren't you supposed to say 'marry me'?"
"Not yet. Let's be engaged and let the rest happen naturally."
Regan laughs, and it's the sweetest sound I've heard in days. She wipes at her tears with the back of her hand. "I think we're doing this all backward." She reaches for my hand to pull me back to my feet. "But then again, when have we ever done anything the conventional way?"
I'm holding the ring box, feeling like I'm suspended between triumph and disaster. "Is that a yes? Or a maybe? Or a 'Mike, you're an idiot but I love you anyway'?"
"It's an 'I need you to understand something first,'" she explains, taking the ring box from my hand and closing it gently. My heart sinks, but she keeps hold of my fingers. "I wasn't hiding from you because I was angry about how you proposed."
"You weren't?"
"No, I was scared," Regan admits, her voice barely above a whisper. "Not of marrying you, but of what it might mean for us---for my career and yours."
"Our careers?" I repeat, the realization dawning on me. "You're worried I'm asking you to give that up."
"Figure skating is all-consuming, Mike, just like pro football is. You know that. I've worked my entire life for this. And your career is just as demanding. I was afraid that one of us would end up having to make sacrifices."
I pull her close, nuzzling her cheek. "Regan, you must know I would never push you to make that choice. There's a middle ground. We just need to find it."