Chapter 15
Lana
We’re in Willow Springs Gardens after I surprised Christian with a picnic earlier this afternoon to celebrate his birthday week.
July third is a big day for me, even if my birthday is on Halloween.
I love celebrating his birthday. I love the boyish grins on his face and the look in his brown eyes when he’s about to blow out the candles, the flames reflecting in his eyes.
It’s like watching the little boy in him heal just a bit every year with a tiny cake.
He’s twenty three today, and he’s been sober for a month—ever since he came home and I had to slap him in the shower so he wouldn’t black out. And we’re so happy. The sun is glowing on him, a halo of light around his head, and he’s so perfect.
I’m so in love with Christian Calloway. I hope I die in love like this.
We’re sitting on our picnic blanket with full bellies. He’s next to me on his side, propped up on his elbow, reading a book I gave him. And I’m doing the same until I catch him squinting so violently, I don’t think he can see the words.
“Did you put on sunscreen?” I ask him.
“Yes,” he says, blinking rapidly.
I close my book on its bookmark and set it down with a sigh.“So you put on sunscreen, but forget the sunglasses?”
He rolls his eyes and digs around the bag. He pulls out his sunglasses and puts them on. “Better?”
“For you, yes! Retina’s are delicate!”
Christian snorts. “You should be a doctor.”
I shrug. “I could be a doctor. But imagine being over two hundred thousand dollars in debt? I couldn’t do that. We’d end up homeless.”
“I’ll get more jobs,” he says, as if it is that simple. “I’ll strip.”
I laugh loudly. “No, the only person you strip for is me.”
He smirks and his arms come around me, rolling me onto my back. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Should I give you a strip tease later tonight?”
“Absolutely, yes.”
Christian laughs and it sounds like summer. It sounds the way the sun feels on us right now. His laugh sounds like when you hear the keys jingle coming from outside the house just before the door unlocks and opens, and your favorite person is coming home to you.
“Marry me,” he says.
I laugh. “What?”
“Marry me.”
“Now?”
He shrugs. “Whenever you’re ready…Marry me.”
“Christian,” I breathe.
“I’m going to marry you, Lana,” Christian whispers. “Today, tomorrow, in five years. Ten years, twenty, I don’t care. I only want you.”
“Marriage is like…a forever thing.”
“And so are you, Lana,” he says softly, lovingly. “Marry me.”
I laugh. “It feels like you’re putting me on hold.”
He sucks his teeth. “You’re right. You can only be put on hold if you have a ring.”
“I’m a person!”
“My favorite person.”
Christian rolls of me and sits up, and I follow suit. He takes off his sunglasses and I push mine up to the top of my head as he grabs something from our bag. It’s a tiny box. Not the velvety or the fancy ones that engagement rings come in. This one is just…simple. Perfectly us.
“Christian?”
“Give me your hand.”
“I swear to—”
He laughs. “Would you stop? Just give me your right hand.”
Smiling, I put my right hand in his and he takes out the ring. It’s a small, gold, dainty ring—thin band and a tiny stone. A ruby. He puts it on my right middle finger, and it’s the perfect fit. And it looks so pretty with my gold pinky ring.
“Ruby is your birthstone, Christian.”
“I know,” he says. “You don’t like it?”
“No, Christian, I love it.” I choke up. “It’s perfect, baby.”
“This is just, like, a promise ring,” Christian tells me, his cheeks going pink. “I know it’s small, but—”
“Christian, I don’t care if it’s small. I wouldn’t care if you wrapped yarn or a straw wrapper around my finger. If it’s from you, I love it. I love you.”
Christian sniffs, wiggling around his nose. “I love you, Lana.”
“I love you,” I say and throw my arms around him. I brush my lips over his and breathe, “Yes.”
Christian gives me a boyish grin.“Yes?”
“Yes. I’ll marry you. In about five to seven years though.”
He chuckles. “Good enough for me.”
“And kids?”
“I didn’t want kids,” Christian murmurs. “But with you, I do. I want everything with you, Lana.”
“We’ll make our own family,” I promise him. “And it’ll be better than the ones we had. Our kids will only know love.”
Christian’s lips flinch before they settle into a frown. “Yeah.”
“Do you want to know what I think?” I urge him onto his back and grab his sunglasses.
I kiss his cheek and gently put his sunglasses back on, protecting his beautiful eyes.
I settle my hands on his chest and peer down at him.
“I think you’re going to be an amazing dad.
I think you have one of the best hearts.
And I think that if we have kids, you’ll love them with everything you have. ”
Christian doesn’t speak, his arms simply wrap around me.
“We have time,” I tell him. “We’re still young.”
“No, I don’t need time,” he says. “I know what I want. Two girls. Big house. We’ll get you a hot mom car—”
I laugh loudly, the sound echoing through the park. “A hot mom car?”
He shrugs, smiling. “Yeah. An SUV. Like a Range Rover or something.”
I laugh again. “We’re going to be able to afford a Range Rover?”
“I’ll make sure of it.”
I shake my head and kiss him. His tongue slips into my mouth, pulling a soft whimper out of me. The kiss deepens, as all of our kisses do. It’s hard to kiss him without it going further.
Christian rolls me onto my back and growls quietly. “Let’s go home.”
I nod rapidly and gather our things quickly. “Let’s go.”
I said yes to Christian four years ago on his twenty-third birthday. We were so happy, so perfect. I never saw what happened five months later coming.
He just left. We were together for three years and then he left. Just like that. Came to our apartment drunk and packed. And by the time I got home, most of his stuff was gone and so was the jar, but the money was left on the table.
He left some of his sweatshirts for me. His sweats, his boxers, the t-shirts he knew I loved to steal from him. He left his cologne on our dresser that I sprayed on his side of the bed for a year.
I wore his Led Zeppelin t-shirt every night. The Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy t-shirt I wore during the day. I wore his washed out, sage green Willow Springs High School hoodie when I went to the gym with Julian because Christian always wore that hoodie to the gym.
Every piece of clothing he left, I sprayed his cologne. Wore it. Cried in public. Cried in the gym when Julian was helping learn leg day workouts. Cried in the supermarket when I saw the cereal he’d binge eat.
He took everything when he left.
And he just…disappeared.
A month later, his mother came to my door and gave me a two million dollar check to never have contact with her son again because he was better off without me.
Four years later, here I am, celebrating Christian’s birthday for the first time since.
I texted Julian last night to help me with today. He helped by waking Christian up at eight a.m. for a workout—even after he said he was going to sleep in—and promised me that he’d keep him there all day.
It’s now noon and the guys—Rowan, Nico, and Luca—are moving things around my patio to make room.
Natalia is with me in the kitchen, finishing the frosting on the cake we made, while Isabelle and I make fresh lemonade for the hot summer day.
And because there are no alcoholic beverages involved today. For no one.
“You know,” Isa says, “you’re doing quite a lot for someone who—”
“Don’t finish that sentence if you don’t want the shark to bite your head off,” Natalia says.
I gape at them. “I thought you said I was a good shark!”
Natalia shrugs, holding the piping bag delicately in her hands. “A shark still has sharp teeth.”
“Either way,” Isa goes on, “I also think it’s nice that you’re doing this for his birthday. He’s probably been miserable for the last four birthdays.”
“I’m sure he was fine,” I mutter, squeezing another lemon.
Isabelle mixes and sprinkles in some sugar, and mixes again. “More juice, Lana.”
I squeeze another and I hear a car door slam shut. I know it’s Julian’s because Christian would never slam his door that hard. Stupid car. I made Julian pick him up so Christian would be forced to wait around for a ride back.
Genius.
“Shit,” I hiss. “He’s here. Natalia!”
“It’s done, I’m just adding tiny hearts to dot the I’s for you.”
I groan and squeeze the last lemon. Isa stirs rapidly and calls out, “Nico! Luca!”
Nicolas comes running in, wide eyes on Isabelle—very unsubtle really. “What?”
Isabelle hands him the giant pitcher. “Take this and put it on the table with the other drinks.”
Nico takes it in his hands and scurries away at her orders. He’d fall to his knees if she asked him to.
Natalia sets down her piping bag and Isabelle dips her finger through the small bowl of frosting that was set aside and sucks on her finger. “Aww. Look, Lana,” Isa says, admiring the cake. “Look.”
“They’re about to come in—”
“Look at the damn cake for a minute!”
Groaning, I stomp around the island and look down at the cake. “Are you kidding me?”
“What’s wrong with it? It’s delicious!” Natalia shouts at me.
“You wrote, ‘Happy 27th Birthday Christian’ with a bunch of hearts! Who are the hearts supposed to be from? Me?”
“You’re dumber than I thought.”
“Natalia.”
“Don’t worry,” she says, smirking deviously. “I made you one for later.”
“Natalia!” I whine.
“Fine, fine. Isa, take this outside.”
Isabelle takes the cake and carefully runs outside. And just in time, Julian runs inside with Grace at his hip, both dressed for the barbecue. “I locked him out.”
“He has a key!”
Julian shrugs and sets Grace down and she runs to hug my leg. She reaches up with her baby arms and I pick her up because I can’t resist her—no one can. “Hey, Gracie baby.”
“Uncle Christian is outside.”
“That’s because your daddy is a giant silly man.”
Grace chuckles but Julian glares, and the front door swings open. “Grace, come with me, baby. We have to go outside.”