Page 147 of All of Me

The tears fall from her eyes as she lifts the lid, her fingers trembling as she pulls the custom choker out of the box. The delicate black velvet band lays across her fingers as she takes in the sight before her. The middle of the choker contains a locket with small charms inside to symbolize our journey together: a coffee cup, a music note, the birthstone of each of our children, and a few other charms fill the locket. On the glass, one of my nicknames for her is engraved across it.

“Dollface,” she whispers, rubbing her thumb over the glass piece. “Owen… this is beautiful. Thank you so much.”

“Flip it over,” I encourage, repeating her words from before. It rattles me just how much we are on the same wavelength.

She flips it over to reveal the discreet engraving on the back of the locket and I watch in awe as the blush creeps up her cheeks as she reads the back that contains my other pet name for her:Kitty.

A soft laugh escapes her, and she shakes her head, more tears threatening to spill over. “You’re going to ruin my makeup, you know that?”

“Oh, I know,” I say with a grin.

“Worth it,” she says as I stand from the table and step behind her, taking the choker from her hands to put it around her delicate neck. As I sit back down, the sight of her wearing something I gave her makes my chest swell with pride. She knows exactly what this choker means to me and I know what it means to her. It’s not just any choker, but a collar. I’d bought her a delicate lace collar years ago as a placeholder until I could find the right one. .

“It’s perfect,” she whispers, her fingers brushing against the collar on her neck.

“No,” I correct her, my voice low. “You’re perfect. So fucking perfect, Callie. I am the luckiest man in the world.”

My wife and I step out into the crisp night air, the cool breeze a refreshing contrast to the warmth inside the restaurant. Callie’s arm loops through mine as we stroll toward the car. The evening feels like something out of one of my wife’s filthy romance novels, one of those nights where everything feels right in the world despite the chaos of our lives this last decade.

When we reach the car, I open her door with a small flourish, earning a playful smile. Just as she’s about to slide in, my phone buzzes in my pocket, shattering the stillness. I fish it out, glancing at the screen. My brows shoot up, and a surprised laugh escapes me.

“What is it?” Callie asks, tilting her head, curiosity lighting up her face.

I can’t keep the grin off my lips as I read the message again. “You’re never going to believe this…”

“Well, spit it out already!” she commands, her hands resting on her hips.

“It’s Luke,” I begin, but before I can say more, a second buzz announces a picture message. I turn the phone toward her, the image lighting up the screen. She gasps audibly, her eyes wide as she stares at it.

“No way,” she breathes, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Shaking my head, I laugh, looking down at the picture again. It’s Luke’s hand intertwined with a woman’s, both of their left ring fingers adorned with simple and unmistakable gold wedding bands.

“He got married?!” Callie exclaims, her voice rising an octave. “To who?!”

“Honey…” I pause, still laughing as I glance at the picture again, as if it will reveal more details. “I have no idea.”

THE END.