I turned to look at the angel on my other shoulder, but he pretended to read a book. Upside down. Well, guess that settled it.
I dove in before I changed my mind and flipped the bag open. The first thing I felt inside was his wallet. The second was his work beeper. The third was ... a copy ofGlossmagazine?
Okay, no judgment there. Just a little surprised.
This one was a new issue. I hadn’t had time to read Dear Desiree, because it had come out yesterday, and yesterday happened to be a very busy day for me. Georgie had three back poops and cluster-ate himself into a food coma.
I grabbed the magazine and flipped to my favorite column. The first question was from a woman who wanted to know if she should accept her husband’s love child who had popped out of nowhere at eighteen, even though he was the product of an affair her husband had had while he was on the road with his country band.
The second, though . . .
The second letter gave me pause.
Dear Desiree,
I need urgent advice on how to make my girlfriend my fiancée.
See, I’m crazy in love with her, and I’m pretty positive the feeling is mutual. The issue is, we have a lot going on in our lives, and we fast-forwarded our relationship in the last twelve months.
We started out as fuck buddies (pardon my French) for a few years, since she didn’t want a relationship due to a bad breakup, and I was too much of a workaholic to put the effort and actually pull her out of her love slump.
Then we’d accidentally gotten pregnant, and that “forced” us together. (Honestly? It forced her to put up with me for more than just a few hours a month. Don’t worry, Desiree, I used it to my advantage and made her fall for me.)
Now we have this squishy, gorgeous baby, and we live together. But that’s a part of the problem.
This gorgeous, amazing, talented, kindhearted woman has done so much for me in the last year. She had my baby, the most precious thing in the world to me. She gave me her unconditional love, emotional support, and moved to a different state so I could take my dream job. She put her entire life and her own career on hold, and is now focused on our child.
It feels almost greedy to ask for her forever. I will say I did find her the perfect engagement ring. And I promise a life of orgasms, cozy holidays, fun vacations, and plenty of sweet memories if she’d do me the honor and become my wife.
What do you say, do I stand a chance?
Her name is Layla Schmidt, by the way. So Layla, if you’re reading this: Please marry me?
Dear Baby Daddy,
Do the damn thing and pop the question. She sure did pop something for you and, by the sound of it, gave up a lot of things to make sure you’ll have fulfillment in your life.
While the beginning of your relationship sounds turbulent and rocky, to say the least, looking at it from the outside, it’s pretty easy to see there’s a lot of love, respect, and devotion between you two.
Allow me to give you a piece of advice, since you obviously find my opinion adequate—you need to stop confusing between gratefulness and unworthiness. Those are not the same feelings. They’re not interchangeable either.
It is good and healthy to be grateful that you found such a great partner in life. Only God knows that many people who are writing to me on a daily basis don’t have the same luck. But it is also important to acknowledge that you are worthy of this love. That if she happily gave up so many things for you, you did something right too.
Layla, if you are reading this, I want you to know you found a good one. I don’t say this lightly, since I am hesitant to believe one side of the story, which is usually exactly what I’m getting when one person in a relationship writes to me. But seeing as your partner, Grant, followed up with numerous (read: too many) phone calls to the editorial team ofGloss, before making the trip to our New York offices in person and begging for us to publish this letter so he could propose to you in a way he thinks would move you, I feel that I’m at liberty to say he is a catch.
If you do end up getting married, please send us a picture from the ceremony. It would be a great palate cleanser, among all the cheating accusations and couples with dark secrets.
Love always,
Desiree xoxo
My heart stuttered to a stop. My hands became clammy.
Grant wanted to marry me.
Desiree knew who I was.
She thought Grant was a catch.
