Kirsten:Please don’t let Maggie spend Valentine’sDay alone. She’s really upset about last night and embarrassed by it, too, but you guys can get past it if you’re willing to try. This can be a minor setback that you both learn from, or it can be a flimsy excuse to give up on each other. I hope you’ll make the right choice.
Kirsten’s message did something for me. It gave me permission to pursue Maggie, to try and follow through with the plans we made. I don’t want to give up on her and what we have. And it’s not like last night’s blowup will be the only issue we encounter in life. As a couple, we’ll have our fair share. But like Kirsten says, we can choose to learn from them instead.
Bless Beau for letting me take the Cadillac again, even if we are just parking the thing at the port and boarding a ship for the evening.
I shift gears to lower my speed as the turn for Maggie’s neighborhood approaches. No less than twenty minutes after receiving Kirsten’s text, I sent a text to Maggie:I’m sorry for how I acted last night. And I’m sorry for hurting you at Viv and Chad’s wedding. If you’re willing to forgive me, meet me on your porch step at five o’clock sharp.
She might suspect what I have in store, seeing that I told her to wear a formal gown, but I have a surprise up my sleeve that she’s bound to appreciate. That is, if she shows.
A quick glance at my dash says it’s 4:55. The countdown is on. I pull into Maggie’s driveway, anticipation building with every breath.
Now is the moment of truth.
23
Maggie
I pace across my bedroom floor, eyeing the shoes I picked out for tonight. I might be zipped into the gown with my hair and makeup done to perfection, but I can’t get myself to commit to the heels just yet.
I think back on the text Braxton sent. ‘If you’re willing to forgive me…’Could that really be his only condition? And what if he’s changed his mind since sending it? It’s been hours now.
Five o’clock is getting closer and closer with every tick of the clock.
Since reading Lovely’s inscription and determining to apply it, I feel less angry, less embarrassed, and less afraidto confront the ugly encounter from last night. Yes, I had a freakout. But if Braxton isn’t willing to let it tear us apart, then neither am I.
With that in mind, I tiptoe over to where my heels rest and slip into them, bending down to clasp the straps around my ankles. Suddenly, I hear the sound of a car door closing. I dart upright, glance out my window, and barely catch sight of Braxton in a tux. He’s not approaching my door yet, though. Instead, he’s ducking into his backseat to retrieve something.
I pull back from the window and hurry across my room, brow furrowed as I try to guess what’s waiting in his back seat.
The old grandfather clock—a gift from Jeb—chimes as it hits five o’clock right as I make it to the door.
Without a second’s delay, I twist the knob, pull open my door, and step right onto my porch. As soon as I see Braxton, my eyes go wide in surprise.
He’s wearing a tux, all right, but that’s not all he has on. I’m not sure which medical staff from what hospital he had to bribe to get his hands on it, but Braxton Wheaton is wearing a King Kong-sized neck brace that hinders his stride and squishes his face, and makes my heart explode with all the feels of a woman who’s well on her way to falling in love.
“Hi,” he says from the bottom of the step. I can tell he’s attempting to look down and check his footing, but the contraption won’t let him.
“Braxton,” I say, hurrying down the steps to greet him before he gets hurt. “Where did you get this thing?”
“A nurse Luke and Liam know from the singles group,” he says through squished lips. “I am going to force myself to wear it the whole night to make up for what I did to you.”
“You are?” I ask as a shocked laugh sneaks past my throat.
Braxton blinks twice. “I can’t nod,” he gripes, “but yes.”
I level a look at him, suspecting that Braxton is far too vain to ever really do such a thing. And the truth is, I would never let him. Still, I decide to have a little fun before letting him off the hook.
I nod. “Okay.”
“Okay?” he squeaks, eyes bulging.
“Sure. I’ll probably have to drive.” I glance over at the car. “But I’m sure Beau won’t mind.”
Braxton sniffs and attempts to rub his nose, but his arm gets stopped by the halo bar.
“You know,” I say, reaching in to scratch his twitching nose for him, “when I wore this, I had to keep it on for four whole weeks.”
He pulls a nervous-looking cringe face like I might ask him to do that too.
