13. Chapter 13
Mackenzie
T he gym is full of teenage bodies swaying slowly as “Arms ” by Christina Perri plays. Tal’s hands are resting loosely on my hips and mine are around his neck. He won’t look me in the eye, and my stomach fills with anxiety.
Is he breaking up with me?
Has he rethought whatever it is we’re doing?
“Mack?” he whispers, and I look up to meet his eyes.
“Yeah?”
“I-I love you.”
This is the first time he’s said the words out loud. We’ve written them down and said it in a million ways, with and without words, but never have we spoken those exact words.
“I love you, too, Tal.”
He licks his lips, and time slows down as he lowers his face to mine. The gym, our friends, everything fades away until we’re in our own bubble, and then, it happens .
Talmage Monson kisses me. It’s hesitant, just a brush of his lips against mine, feather light and so achingly soft. Hesitant and cautious, but perfect nonetheless.
I want to grab him by the back of his head and crash his lips against mine harder, but this is his first kiss ever, so I’ll let him take the lead.
He presses his lips a bit more firmly against mine, and I swear I melt into a puddle. Someone is going to have to squeegee me off the floor.
The song ends, and the lights in the gym turn on since it was the last song. Our bubble is popped when our friend Austin comes over and starts gushing about how our kiss was the most romantic thing he’s ever seen.
I wish we could stay in our bubble forever.
I don’t remember the last time I was in a restaurant this nice.
When I was little, my parents used to take me to Red Lobster for my birthday, and I considered that nice, so maybe never?
There was the one time my ex took me to a steakhouse in California, but it was basically just a glorified Texas Roadhouse.
He said it was fancy, and maybe to him it was but definitely not fancy like this .
There are fake lemon trees creating a canopy over the dining room, the branches hold small rectangle lantern lights giving it a soft ambiance.
Instrumental music plays quietly through hidden speakers.
Each table has a single yellow rose in a vase in the middle of a crisp white tablecloth—except for ours.
In the middle of our table is a large bouquet of pink calla lilies, my favorite flowers.
When I asked Talmage why ours was different, he shrugged and said, “They’re your favorite.”
I don’t know how he remembers. I think I mentioned it to him once when I was fifteen. My taste could have changed, I could have a different favorite flower, but even if I did, I’d still be floored by him remembering something I said in passing over a decade ago and made a point to get them for me.
It nearly brought me to tears. No one’s ever bought me flowers. Past boyfriends have always given excuses that they don’t want to buy something bound to die, or they didn’t know what flowers to get, even if I told them my favorite.
Tal and I are fake engaged. This is our first real date, and he’s already raised the bar for future partners.
Ugh. Don’t think about this ending before it’s even begun. Don’t ruin tonight.
Even though I could have used some liquid courage to calm my nerves, I ordered a strawberry lemonade to go with my dinner instead of a cocktail or a glass of wine so I could keep my wits about me.
Who knows what I’d say after a little alcohol loosened my tongue.
Tal ordered Brie en croute to share as an appetizer, and it’s so good.
I’ve never had fig jam, but the creamy brie balances the tart sweetness of it deliciously.
I’ve never had anything like it before, and after subsisting off of mostly boxed and frozen meals, it tastes like heaven.
Tal has been peppering me with questions about my week, about my sisters, and sharing things he’s been up to.
He tells me about a group of preschoolers who came to the station for a field trip, asking a million questions about how they put out fires.
Siren apparently loves field trip days because the kids give the best scratches.
It all feels so… normal. Like we’ve been doing this for years.
I don’t— can’t —trust the familiarity.
I’m having a hard time remembering that while we knew each other as teens, we’ve both changed. The same things that were true as teenagers aren’t true now. My heart wants to pick up right where we left off, act like we weren’t apart for thirteen years. But my brain knows it’s not possible.
It would be easy to go back to how things were when I was fifteen. Before… everything else happened.
But I can’t. I can’t change the past. All I can do is move forward one step at a time.
Apparently, with Talmage.
God, my sisters were so annoying about him. I told them I was seeing someone, and Kinsley wouldn’t leave me alone.
Who is he? Is he hot? Is he rich? Will he be sleeping over? Does he know you’re boring? What does he do? Does he have any social media? Does he make thirst traps? Is he boring?
We had to have a chat about what is and isn’t appropriate for her to be watching on social media, and thirst traps are in the “absolutely not” column.
She disagreed; it’s a battle I’m not going to win, so I dropped it. I don’t want to be a helicopter guardian, but I try to make sure they’re being safe online.
Harper’s not as nosy as Kinsley, thankfully. Or maybe she’s just not as vocal about it. Not that Kinsley would let her get a word in. I don’t know if Kins just… soaked up all the obnoxiousness in the womb, but while she gave me a thorough interrogation, all Harp asked was "Does he make you happy?”
And fuck me if that didn’t make me want to cry. I told her he did, and she nodded in approval and said she hopes it works out before she turned back to the script she was studying.
I told Kinsley I would tell her about him after tonight because I don’t know if Talmage has told his family, and Lacey is in the musical with Harper.
I don’t think Harper would gossip to anyone, but I don’t need to cause any more issues with his family.
His mom is probably going to blow a gasket about us being together as it is.
The last thing we need is for Laurie to find out from her teenage daughter her oldest is marrying the girl she despises.
I understand now why Laurie thought I was bad for Talmage.
She thought I was corrupting him, which…
I guess in a way I was. I made him break his “no kissing until marriage” vow or whatever.
But we never went past kissing and holding hands.
The occasional cuddle at a movie night with all of our friends is hardly salacious.
I can only imagine how she’ll feel about me now with my piercings and tattoos and him marrying me on a whim.
She’ll probably never know the real reason we’re getting married.
I almost wish she did, though. Then maybe it would soften the blow.
Or maybe it would upset her even more. Maybe she’d tell me I’m using him and taking advantage of his kindness.
Joke’s on her, I already feel that way about myself .
We each have our entrées now, and we’ve been eating them in relative silence. My scallop risotto is creamy, and the scallops melt in my mouth, but it’s hard to focus on enjoying the meal when my anxiety is swirling.
“Have you told your parents about us yet?” I blurt out, unable to let myself sit with my questions any longer.
Talmage calmly sets down the knife he’s using to cut his steak and swallows harshly. “I haven’t. I plan on doing it soon, but I wanted to make things official first.”
“What do you mean? We’re getting married in three weeks. I don’t think you should wait until then to tell them. I think that would—”
“That’s not what I mean by official,” he interrupts, rubbing his hands on his thighs.
“Then what do you mean?”
Tal clears his throat, stands from his chair, reaches into his pocket, and gets down on one knee in front of me.
My eyes probably look like saucers.
Is he…?
No.
Surely not.
He pulls out a gray velvet box.
Oh, God, he is!
“Mackenzie Thorpe,” he starts, speaking loud enough he gets the attention of the whole restaurant. The music gets softer, and the hushed voices of the other patrons go quiet, listening intently to the absolutely insane man on his knee in front of me.
“When we were fourteen, I fell for the girl who was bad at math and scared of spiders. The girl who obsessively listened to Taylor Swift and would write love notes with hearts dotting the ‘i’s.’ You once told me we were like Cory and Topanga from Boy Meets World.
Our time wasn’t then, but you knew we’d always find our way back to each other.
We may have lost touch for a little while, but you were right.
Our souls found each other again, and I’ll forever be grateful they did.
“We may not be exactly who we were as teenagers, but now I’ve fallen for the woman who’s strong, who will do anything to take care of those she loves.
The woman who’s been dealt a difficult hand in life but is resilient and hasn’t let it consume her.
You are the most incredible woman I’ve ever met, not to mention the most beautiful.
I knew I wanted to marry you as a teenager, and I know I want to marry you now. ”
He opens the box, and my breath gets caught in my throat. Nestled against the padding is the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.
“Mack, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”
My vision goes blurry. I’m so overwhelmed by his sweet words and the slew of emotions drowning my senses, all I can do is nod.
It’s not real. My reasonable brain whispers, but I ignore it for now. I’ll sob about the fact it’s fake later.
Talmage’s smile rivals the afternoon sun with how bright it is. There’s a sheen of tears in his own eyes, making the blue irises glow as he slips the ring on my finger—a perfect fit.
He stands and pulls me into the tightest hug, whispering, “I’m going to kiss you now,” in my ear. He pulls back slightly and cups my face .
I give an imperceptible nod, knowing a kiss will make this all more believable, even as I know it’ll completely wreck me.
The restaurant erupts into cheers and applause as he wraps one arm around my waist, cups my face with the other, and brings his lips to mine.
Everything else fades away, though, and all I can see and hear and smell and taste is Talmage.
Talmage Monson is kissing me.
Gentle and cautious, our lips meet, and maybe I’m imagining it, but I swear he whimpers at the contact.
Then he apparently decides to throw caution to the wind; he kisses me harder, more urgently, like he’s worried I might pull away.
His grip on my waist tightens, and his thumb brushes my cheek as his lips press intently against mine.
My senses return when a moan threatens to work its way up my throat, and I pull back, panting and blinking up at him. He didn’t even slip me his tongue, and I’m hot and bothered.
No, no, no. I cannot be horny for my fake fiancé. It’s just the first human affection I’ve had other than hugs from Lizzie or the twins in years, and my body is confused.
Tal’s eyes are glassy as he stares into mine. Almost as if he’s in a trance, he brings his thumb up to my lips and swipes it across them.
“Smudge proof,” he whispers.
“Yeah,” I whisper back.
“Mack, I—”
“Congratulations, love birds! That was so romantic. The manager would like to offer you a complimentary dessert to celebrate your engagement!” our waitress interrupts, and we both jolt a little.
“Oh, that’s so kind. Thank you so much.” Talmage says. “Can you actually take our picture really quick, please?”
The waitress nods, and he hands her his phone.
He wraps his arm around my waist, and I bring my left hand up so the ring is on his chest. I give her my best smile, even though my mind is still reeling.
She snaps a few pictures, then hands Tal the phone.
He inspects them and nods his approval before giving me one last squeeze, and we take our seats again. “Do we get to choose the dessert?”
“Of course! What would you two like?”
Tal motions for me to go ahead, so I clear my throat. “We’ll do the crème brulee, please.” It’s the only dessert I remember seeing.
She nods, congratulates us again, then leaves to—presumably—go put our order in. Talmage and I sit in an awkward silence.
My risotto is still half eaten, and Tal’s steak is probably cold.
What the hell just happened?
“The ring is lovely,” I finally say, breaking the silence.
Tal’s eyes lock on my left ring finger, and a smile tugs at his lips.
“I wanted to get you an emerald—to match the color of your eyes—but I saw this one, and it reminded me of your eyes even more. The different shades of green and the way they swirl together… I knew it was the one I wanted you to have.”
“I love it. It’s something I would have picked out for myself, if I were to choose my own. I figured you would have gone with a plain band or a simple oval diamond or something.”
Talmage’s eyes meet mine. “A simple diamond wouldn’t cut it. You need a ring as unique and beautiful as you.”