Chapter 33 #2
Thankfully, nobody follows us. For now, anyway. Which means Marco and I are free to grab fresh beers and head into the glorious sunshine on my deck. Once we’re alone, we crack open the beers, plop onto some comfy furniture, and look out at the glimmering ocean.
“Luca was seriously right?” Marco asks, incredulously.
I nod. “I’ve never been happier in my life. She’s the real deal, man. A unicorn.”
“Holy shit. When are you gonna ask her?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Initially, I was thinking about doing it on Iris’s birthday next month. But now that I’ve got the ring—”
“You’ve already got a ring?” Marco palms his forehead. “Holy shit.”
“I got it yesterday. And now that I have it, I’m not sure I can wait a month and a half to give it to her.” I glance toward the party to make sure nobody is coming out here before returning to Marco. “What do you think about me doing it today, either at the party or after everyone leaves?”
Marco frowns. “Don’t you think you’re moving a bit fast here, Rome?”
“When you know, you know.”
“Yeah, I get that. I felt the same way about Nico. But don’t you think maybe you should let Iris get in the swing of the WAG lifestyle before you make her promise to love you forever?
Why not ask when the season is over? By then, she’ll know what she’s getting into, and you’ll be better able to assess if she’s really—”
“She is. Whatever you’re going to say, don’t bother. She’s the one, Marco. So, why wait? I couldn’t sleep a wink last night knowing I had that ring in my safe. And having it in my pocket today is practically giving me a heart attack.”
Marco’s eyes widen. “You have it in your pocket?”
I nod. “Just in case.”
“In case what?”
“The perfect moment presents itself.”
“To propose?”
“That’s what we’ve been talking about. Yes.”
Marco looks stunned. “Who are you? The Roman I know doesn’t even like to commit to lunch next week.”
I look toward the party again. “I know this is uncharted territory for me, but I don’t have a single doubt. Not when it comes to Iris. She’s rock-solid, man. She’s The One.”
Marco smiles. “That’s great news, man. Congratulations. But it’s still early days yet, cuz. If she’s The One—”
“She is.”
“—then she’ll still be The One in six months.”
“Six months?” I whisper-shout. “I can’t wait that long.
Coach said he’s gonna let me play a drive at our last preseason game in two weeks.
Well, when that happens and the cameras pan to the people cheering me on in my box, I want Iris to be wearing my rock.
Marco, I want the Runaway Bride to be my fiancée, my future wife, when the whole world sees her. ”
“Ah, so that’s what this is really about. When you hard launch her, you want to put an immediate end to all the trolling, once and for all.”
“Exactly. There’s gonna be record eyeballs tuning in to see me in a Thunderbolts jersey for the first time, man.
So, it’ll be the perfect time to let the whole world know the Runaway Bride is my future wife—my family—so if anyone’s got something shitty to say about her, they’d better have the balls to say it to me. ”
“Hasn’t her viral fame pretty much dried up, though?”
“Yeah, but I’m guessing it’s gonna spring back to life, at least somewhat, when she’s seen cheering for me throughout the season.” I rough a palm down my face. “If that happens, then I want to protect her, Marco. All that viral shit was tough on Iris. I can’t let that happen to her again.”
Marco’s face softens. “I get it, Romie. But is that a good enough reason to propose today, when you’ve only known her for a couple months?”
“He wants to propose to Iris today?” Luca booms, barreling onto the deck with Levi and Cameron trailing behind. He plops down next to me on the couch and punches my thigh. “Don’t you dare do it without a ring, motherfucker, or Mom will kill you.”
“Not so loud,” I hiss. I look toward the party. “I have a ring, dumbass. Obviously.”
“It’s in his pocket right now,” Marco interjects, as everyone gets settled on furniture scattered around the deck. “He’s trying to decide if he should propose during the party today or right after everyone leaves.”
Everyone explodes with “what the fuck” and various opinions—all of them conveying the same basic messaging. Slow down, Roman. What’s the rush, Roman? Wait till the end of the season, Roman. If she’s The One, then she’ll still be The One in a year, after you get to know her better.
“Basically, he’s trying to reframe the narrative from the viral video,” Marco explains.
“Hmm,” Cameron says. “Isn’t that video a good reason not to propose to her so soon?
A few months ago, the whole world saw Iris dressed in a wedding dress for someone else.
Don’t you think you should let more time pass, just to keep her from getting ridiculed for hopping from one engagement to the next? ”
“Fuck,” I whisper, my shoulders sagging. Fucking Cameron. He’s always got a take that makes sense, even if it’s not something I want to hear.
“I think Cam’s got a point,” Marco says softly. “Sorry, Romie.”
Sensing he’s making headway, Cameron adds, “Also, don’t you think it’s only fair to give Iris a chance to live with Regular Season Roman and the whole circus that surrounds him before she promises to love you, forever, for better or worse?”
“That’s exactly what I said,” Marco says. He grimaces at me. “No offense, man, but you’re always a massive dick during the season.”
“True, but I won’t be this season, because everything that normally turns me into a dick has been fixed.” They don’t believe me. I can see it in their eyes.
Levi finally speaks. “I get that you feel like a solider going off to war,” he says, “so you want to propose before you go. It’s a noble idea, in theory. But I think it’s only fair to let her get to know Wartime Roman before you ask her to promise ‘forever’ to Peacetime Roman.”
“Exactly,” Marco says, as Cameron nods enthusiastically. “Plus, like I told Rome, I feel like Iris should get a taste of being a high-profile WAG before she’s asked to commit to being one forever.”
Everyone nods at that, and I can’t say I blame them. “WAG” is the acronym used for the “wives and girlfriends” of players. And Cameron’s got a good point: Being one, especially mine, will probably take some getting used to for Iris.
I hang my head and sigh. “Okay, fine, I won’t ask her today. But I’m not willing to wait till the end of the season, like Marco said, so I’ll compromise and do it on her birthday.”
Levi scoffs. “Assuming she’s still around and you haven’t scared her off by then by being your usual dicky self during the season.”
Cameron asks the date of Iris’s birthday, and when I tell it to him, he shakes his head and says, “Levi’s right. That’s, what, six games in? Anything could happen, especially if you start icing her out, like you always do when you—”
“I told you, I’m not gonna be a dick like usual this time!
” I glance toward the party again and lower my voice.
“I’m a new man, guys. The new me knows that happiness off the field helps my performance on the field, so the new me therefore knows to prioritize my relationship, even during the season. ”
The guys look at each other, their collective skepticism on full display.
“Besides Iris, I’ve also got Maverick in my life now, remember? Plus, Coach on the sidelines, a city that believes in me, and some solid targets on the field. Everything’s going to be different now. You’ll see. By the time I propose to Iris in October, she won’t hesitate to say yes to me.”
Marco twists his mouth. “Maybe you should get a woman’s perspective on all this before you lock in your plan. Can I text Nicola to come out here?”
“Great idea. Let’s hear her out.” Throughout the party, Nicola and Iris have been chatting up a storm, so I’m positive she’ll side with me.
Marco taps on his phone, and a moment later, his lovely wife appears on the deck.
“Show her the thing in your pocket,” Marco instructs with a nudge to my thigh.
I pull out the ring box and flip open the lid—and to my thrill, everyone on the deck goes bonkers at my selection. Nicola, especially, is swooning over the size of the diamond and its design. And, of course, over the fact that I’ve bought a ring for Iris at all.
“When are you going to ask her?” Nicola whispers excitedly.
“That’s why I asked you out here,” Marco says. “To give your opinion on that.”
I start to plead my case, but Marco holds up his palm and tells me to zip it.
“You’re an unreliable narrator at this point, cuz.
” With near-surgical precision, my cousin launches into telling his wife everything she needs to know to render her expert opinion as I nervously turn the ring box around in my fingertips.
“I’m so excited,” Nicola says to me, when Marco finishes his explanation. “Not only for you, but for myself. I love her.”
“Isn’t she the cutest person ever?” Luca says. “I mean, besides you, of course.”
Nicola laughs. “She’s way cuter than me. She’s like human sunshine.”
“Totally,” Luca agrees. “But so are you.”
“Aw.”
“Can you two focus, please?” I bark out. “You need to give me some solid advice on timing.”
“If you don’t,” Marco adds, “this dummy is gonna go out there, like a fucking bull in a china shop, and do it right fucking now.”
Nicola gasps. “Oh, God, Roman, no. Don’t do it today. She’s just met all these people. Give her a minute to process before you hit her with the next thing.”
“How about after everyone leaves today?” I ask hopefully.
Nicola scowls. “Roman, no. She’ll be exhausted after the party.”
“Okay, Plan B,” I mutter, feeling disheartened. “What about me doing it on her birthday?”
I tell Nicola the date in October, and she shakes her head.
“Sorry, but I don’t think you should mix her birthday with her engagement day.”
“Goddammit Nicola,” I say. “I only agreed to get your input because I thought you’d side with me.”
Nicola juts out her lower lip. “Sorry, honey, but a woman’s birthday is a national holiday. Don’t deny her two separate celebrations and sets of presents.”
Luca nods emphatically. “It’s like those poor people who have their birthday on Christmas!”
“Exactly,” Nicola agrees. “Well said, Luc.”
“I’m smart like that.”
“Yes, you are.”
While Nicola and Luca giggle together, I stare in frustration at the glittering diamond nestled against black velvet in my hand. “She’s my future wife,” I murmur. “I’m sure of it. You know how much I hate waiting for something when I’m sure it’s what I want.”
Everyone around me offers comments that say, in essence, “Yes, we know. All too well.”
“The minute I saw this ring,” I continue, “I said to myself, ‘That’s the one. It’s so Iris.’ And now that I have it—”
“What’s so Iris?” Iris asks, waltzing onto the deck, and I almost huck the five-hundred-thousand-dollar bauble in my hand over the railing.
Thank God clever Luca deftly hurls his body between Iris and me, thereby blocking Iris’s view of the ring.
“It’s so Iris that everyone at this party has fallen madly in love with you, kid,” Luca says brightly, wrapping his muscled arm around Iris’s shoulders and guiding her back toward the house.
“I was actually about to come find you, sis. I can’t get that ‘Baby Shark’ song out of my head, ever since you taught it to Mavvy and me.
It’s driving me insane, so I need you to teach me a new, catchy song before I bash my head against a wall. ”
As Luca guides Iris back into the house, he glances over his shoulder at me, and I shoot him a look that says, “That was a close call.” When they’re gone, I pull the ring box out from under my ass cheek with a trembling hand and slide it into my pocket again.
“I’ve got to be more careful from now on,” I say, wiping my brow. “If I’m sloppy like that again, she’ll figure me out before the big proposal.”
“Which will be when?” Nicola asks.
I shrug. “Sorry, Nico. What you said about keeping birthdays and engagements separate makes logical sense, but Iris’s birthday in six weeks falls during my bye week, so it’ll be the perfect time. Plus, that’s definitely the longest I could possibly wait to make Iris Benedetto my future wife.”