Chapter 46 Wesley
WESLEY
Iknocked on Rosie’s door, flowers in hand, grapes in pocket, hoping she wasn’t mad.
Maggie had approached me after the book club when I ran out like my ass was on fire, and explained some things to me.
She said she’d been watching me and keeping tabs on me that past month, seeing if I was good enough for “our Rosie,” as she called her. She decided that I was.
“I see the way you look at her like she carries your heart.”
“She doesn’t carry it. She is it.”
Maggie looked me over after I confirmed what she already knew. “It took you a while to get here.”
“But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“I don’t suppose you are.” She pulled her phone out of her bag and handed it to me. “You’re my pick, Wesley. I’ll text you the details.” I took the device from her grasp, plugged in my contact information, and sent myself a hello message.
“I’ll be in touch,” Maggie told me as she walked away from me.
The door opened, and Rosie’s eyes were rimmed red, like she’d been crying. “What happened? Are you okay? Where’s Lionel?” I started calling out his name as I pulled her to my chest, looking through the house for the cause of her distress.
I heard a shuffling from the living room, and when I put my eyes on Lionel, some of my anxiety started to dissipate. “Why are you upset Rosie?”
“Because I’m supposed to go on a date with Maggie’s pick, and I really don’t want to, because, you know.
” She moved her back and forth in a us gesture, and I couldn’t help the grin my lips tipped into.
“Then I opened our text thread to let you know about it, and that it wasn’t at all my idea, and I started to read your texts. ”
I tried to remember all the messages I sent her. They were…a lot. Multiple a day—sometimes multiple in a minute. My grin grew into a look of mild embarrassment.
“That’s a lot of messages, and most of them were about nothing, Wesley. I mean, you sent me a paragraph about peaches because you were at the grocery store.” She shot me a look. “And I just…I missed you. Missed this.” She put her hand on my heart.
“I know, baby.”
“I know we have to talk, but I have to go on this date, and I’m so sorry about that…” Now that she had calmed down a little bit, and I knew the danger wasn’t any immediate threat, I relaxed and took in what she was wearing. A coffee-stained T-shirt and ripped sweatpants.
“Is…that what you’re wearing on your date?”
“I said I’d go on the date, not that I had to look nice.” She looked so blissfully unaware that I was Maggie’s pick, and my heart was about to burst out of my chest. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I felt it in every part of me. “I love you, Rosie. I’m in love with you.”
She sucked in a breath. “I love you too.”
“I need you to know that I’m in love with how much you love coffee, and that you got a tortoise as a pet.
I love your glasses, and your love for really terrible movies.
You’re the only person I can tolerate eating food in my truck.
I love when you give your opinion because I love the way you view the world.
You make me want to be better. And I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. ”
Tears were streaming down her face now, and I moved my hands to her cheeks and used my thumb to wipe them away, kissing the ones I couldn’t catch.
“It’s not going to be easy. Years of dealing with me. Years,” Rosie said as the tears slowed.
“What’s another decade?”
“Ten years.”
“I’ll take ten lifetimes.” I moved to kiss her, but before I could, she jumped up.
“Oh! What if my date shows up?” she wondered.
“That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” I moved to get behind her. “And what if I’m your date?” I pulled her into my chest, but she moved again, turning to face me.
“You are not,” she chided. “Maggie picked you?” I would have been offended if she didn’t look so taken aback.
“Yes, Maggie chose me.”
“That sly old bat,” she murmured. “Sly old bat.”
“I’m telling her you called her that.” I put two fingers underneath Rosie’s chin and tipped her face up so she was looking at me. “Video games and pizza?”
“Best. Date. Ever.” She nipped my lips and ran to grab her favorite controller—the best controller, but I’d let her have it, just like always.
Rosie could have anything of mine she wanted. It was all for her, and we were finally on the same page.