10. Chapter 10
Talmage
N ow would be the perfect moment for a first kiss. The breeze is blowing her hair behind her shoulders, and the sun is casting her in a glow. Her green eyes are bright and vibrant and so open, honest.
I want to kiss her, but I made a promise to myself a long time ago I would only kiss my future wife on our wedding day.
Even if I plan on Mack being my wife, I can’t break the promise.
Right?
Why is this so hard?
I never planned on falling in love so early on, and I never anticipated the waiting to be so difficult.
Mack’s birthday is in a month, maybe it would be a good birthday present…
I don’t know what to do. My friends have told me it’s crazy to make her wait until we’re married. That I should practice kissing in case something happens and we break up .
I’ll never break up with Mack, though.
But will she break up with me if I never kiss her? I hear other boys talk about her. She doesn’t know how many of them have crushes on her. Would one of them be able to steal her away?
I hope not. I hope our love is strong enough to stand the test of something like not kissing.
But what if it isn’t?
I swear I’m going to vibrate right off of this bench.
Mack texted me this morning and asked when I’d be free to meet up, and I told her I was available all day. It’s been exactly one week since my offer, and it seems she’s ready to give me an answer.
She’s given no indication as to which way she’s leaning.
I hope she says yes.
I realize I don’t have a solid reason for wanting to marry her, other than I just… feel it deep in my bones this is the right thing to do.
Everyone in the church always talks about promptings from “the spirit” and revelation from God, but I’ve never felt anything like that—and I’ve tried. I prayed and prayed and prayed when I was going to propose to Jamie. I went to the temple to try to get closer to God and see if He would answer.
Nothing .
I never felt a single thing in either direction. All I felt was a sense of disappointment God didn’t deem me worthy of an answer. People in the church always say “no answer is an answer,” but when it’s a big, life-changing decision, sometimes it’s not enough.
At the time, I figured it was because I was starting to question things, so I shoved my doubts aside and started praying more. I started reading my scriptures in earnest. I started going to the temple weekly. Even when I was coming off of a night shift and was bone-tired—I went.
I proposed to Jamie, and she ended things. So I figured maybe they were right: no answer was the answer. Maybe God not telling me I was making the wrong choice was His way of telling me I was making the right one.
Now?
I’m not even sure God exists.
And if He doesn’t exist, then it was just my instincts that told me proposing to Jamie was a good idea.
I wasn’t taught to trust my instincts, so I don’t know how to trust them outside of work.
Clearly, they’ve been wrong when it comes to romance before, so why am I trusting them when it comes to asking Mack to marry me?
I want her to be able to go back to school if she wants. I want to help ease the exhaustion so clear on her face. I want to take care of her, give her time to rest.
There’s a very real possibility this will all blow up in my face.
But I have to believe it won’t. I have to believe this will all work out. Mack and I will get married, and she’ll stop having to work so hard because Harper will have better insurance. Then we’ll… I don’t know—fall in love and have a real marriage, maybe .
I’m smiling to myself like a silly goose now, thinking about falling asleep next to Mack. Waking up next to Mack. Bringing Mack flowers on a random Tuesday. Writing a grocery list with her and telling her to stay in bed, I’ll go pick up everything.
Ooo. Mack will wear the ring I picked out for her. Everyone will see it and ask her about it, and she’ll call me her husband.
I’ll get to come home from a late shift and give her a kiss on the forehead and snuggle up next to her warm body in bed. She’ll tell me about her day while I trace the ink on her skin—I’ll have the lines memorized in no time—and then I’ll update her on what’s happening at the station.
Yeah, it’ll be perfect. This feels right.
I’m so caught up in my daydream I don’t notice Mack sliding into the booth across from me.
Gosh, she looks pretty today.
Her long hair is in a braid over one shoulder, and she’s wearing a black shirt that scoops low in the front—
I snap my gaze up to hers.
“Hi, Mack. You look good,” I say, hoping she doesn’t think I’m a creep.
“Hi, Tal, thanks. So do you,” she replies, glancing around the shop.
We’re at a different sandwich place since Valley Baker is closed on Sundays. I ordered for us already, and I slide the wrapped sandwich, bag of chips, and chocolate chip cookie over to Mack.
Her brows furrow. “What’s this?”
“Your sandwich.”
“Tal— ”
“No, please don’t argue with me. You need to eat.”
She huffs. “I don’t remember you being so bossy.”
I grin. “I’m not bossy, Mack. I just want to make sure you’re eating.”
Mack sighs and opens her chips, crunching on one while I do the same. “Thank you.”
“Of course. Anything for you.” ANYTHING.
Anticipation rattles around in my stomach, and I want to ask her what her answer is, but I don’t want to seem too eager—too pushy.
Mack doesn’t touch her sandwich, but she does eat a few more chips before she wipes her fingers on her napkin and folds her arms in front of her on the table.
“So about your offer…” she says slowly.
My heart stutters. “Have you thought about it?”
“I have.”
I hate that I can’t read the emotion on her face. I hate that I can’t tell what she’s about to say.
“And…” She takes a deep breath before she looks directly into my eyes—directly into my freaking soul. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
The wings of a thousand doves flap around in my stomach, and I swear the heavens open and light pours in through every window in this place—nevermind that the sky is filled with dark clouds.
Hope and joy light my chest, and I have the sudden urge to scoop her out of the booth and kiss her. Thank her. Make promises I have no business making.
Tears spring to my eyes.
“Really?” I croak, a grin threatening to take over my face .
Mack isn’t smiling, though. She looks worried as she nods.
The doves stop flapping, my stomach dropping out of my butt as worry replaces the elation I felt for a brief moment.
I don’t want this to be a sad thing for Mack.
“Are you sure about this? You seem…” I search for the right word, finally settling on “reluctant.”
“It’s not because of you, ” she starts. “This is all just so crazy. So fast. I mean, we barely know each other and—”
“Hey, we know each other! We’ve known each other for almost fifteen years.”
Mack gives me a pitying smile I don’t like.
“I’m not the same girl I was at fifteen, Tal.
Just like you’re not the same guy. This new version of me has gone through more trauma than anyone should, and I’m not looking at things through rose-colored glasses.
Fifteen-year-old Tal would have never dreamed of leaving the church, and you are. ”
But he dreamed of marrying you. We have that in common.
I don’t say that, though. She’s right, we’re not the same people, but we’re not complete strangers like she’s making it seem.
“This just gives us a chance to get to know each other again. I haven’t changed so much in the last decade.”
“We could get to know each other without getting married, you know.”
“Right, but if we get married, you have more free time. Plus, we’ll be living together, so it gives us more opportunities to talk. ”
Mack’s eyes widen. “I-I didn’t think about that. Us living together, I mean. I guess we need to talk through logistics. You’ve clearly thought a lot about this.”
I have. Every day for three weeks, I’ve thought about it.
What it would look like, how things would feel.
“Well, we’d have to live together to sell it, right?
We could be charged with insurance fraud if someone suspects we’re only getting married for insurance benefits, and it would be suspicious if we didn’t live together. ”
“Right. That makes sense.” She bites down on her lower lip. They look so soft. So kissable. They look fuller than they did when we were teenagers. I wonder if they feel the same. “So, we wouldn’t tell anyone it’s fake?”
“No. I think we’d need to keep it between us.”
“And Lizzie,” she blurts, her face flushing. “Lizzie knows you asked and why. She um, she told me to do it. So she would know.”
“Do you trust she won’t say anything?” I remember Lizzie from school. I didn’t know her very well, but if Mack trusts her, I trust her.
“Yes. I trust her with my life.”
“Great. We’ll need a witness for the wedding anyway. Will you want to tell your sisters or…?”
Mack sighs. “I don’t know. I don’t like lying to them, but they’re fifteen. They’re either going to tell everyone or bully me about it. They’ll probably bully me about it if I don’t tell them it’s fake anyway.”
“Why would they bully you?”
“Well, I haven’t dated anyone since before… you know. They’ve been up my ass about getting out there, but I always tell them I don’t have time—which isn’t exactly false. So if I come home and say, ‘Hey, look! I’m getting ma rried!’ they’re going to have very loud opinions and many, many questions.”
She hasn’t dated anyone in five years?
Has she really been going through all of the heartbreak and pain completely alone?
Well, I guess not completely alone if she’s still close with Lizzie, but still.
Five years. Wow.
“Just tell them you didn’t want to say anything until it was serious.”
She snorts. “Right. I feel like marriage is a step above serious.”
“Then tell them the truth. We’re getting married so quickly so you can stop overworking yourself. It’s technically true, it just leaves out the fact we weren’t dating in the first place.”
Mack studies my face for a minute. “You’re so calm about this. Why?”
I shrug. “It feels right.”