“I know," he responds, "I’m so sorry, please forgive me.”
“I do. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have told the PR team to move forward with that approach for our breakup.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered what they’d chosen, I would have hated it because I never wanted us to divorce.”
I laugh softly.
“So does that mean you forgive me?” he presses.
“I do. I just… I think I needed to hear you say those words again, outside of that context.”
“What words?” I can hear the playfulness return to his voice.
“You know which ones.”
“Baby, I’ll say it to you every day for the rest of your life if that’s what you want. Rosie Anne Prescott,I’m in love with you. Don’t divorce me. Hold on for me. I’ve got a game in the city tonight that I have to be at, but after that, I’m on the first flight out to Los Angeles to see you and tell you to your face that I love you and always will love you. I’m yours and you’re mine.”
Tears spill down my cheeks as I stand on the curb at LAX, trying to wave down a cab to take me to the hotel that my admin booked for my three months stay.
“Boone, you can’t do that. Don’t you have practice this week?”
“I told Coach I needed to skip it. I’m taking you to Canada this weekend, just like we planned. I haven’t had a vacation in over a year, and I want you to meet my mom.”
“Are you kidding?”
“No. I’m serious. So, clear your schedule. I’ll get you back to Los Angeles by Monday morning, but this weekend you’re mine. We’re going to figure this out because this marriage isn't ending. Ever. I love you, Rosie.”
I nod, even though he can’t see me. I want to say the words back, but I refuse to without seeing his face.
“I’ll see you soon, baby,” he says softly.
“Okay,” I reply, my voice steadier now. And for the first time in months, I believe it really will all be okay.
???
Two days later, I’m gliding cautiously on the surface of the frozen pond on Boone’s family property in Canada, wobbling on the new skates he had shipped to his mom’s house for our weekend getaway.
“Okay, let’s try this again,” Boone calls, his voice playful as he skates backward making smooth circles around me.
I’m not sure what it is about seeing Boone in skates but it’s probably the hottest version of him to me. I also might have blurted that out to him thirty minutes ago which is why he quickly rushed us through dinner and out the door to go skating.
“Except this time, I don’t fall and almost crack a hip ending my career, and you don’t go chasing after me if I do,” he jokes.
I smirk, watching him as he continues to circle me. “What if I’m never as good as you are at skating?”
He throws his head back and laughs. “Well, that’ll be a problem for our future kids.”
My cheeks pink up at that.
The past twenty-four hours have been surreal—every room in the cabin we’ve been sleeping in has been christened with whispered promises and slow, heated apologies in the form of us making love. If I thought things between Boone and I were passionate before, stripping away the hiding and secrets has only made everything better.
And now, after meeting his mama—a warm, kind woman who welcomed me with open arms despite the strange start to our marriage—it feels like we’ve found solid ground again.
“Why do I feel like I’m being circled by a pack of hyenas?” I tease, gaining confidence in my stride with each brush of the blades.
“Probably because their intentions are to ravage their prey.” His grin turns devilish. “And that’s mine, too.”
I arch a brow, picking up speed as I try to skate around him, dodging a few bumps and roots frozen into the ice.
