Blowing out another breath, I toss the letter onto the table since Harlow won’t be leaving the bed anytime soon.
Later that night, I’m struggling to sleep. I’m constantly waking to feel her forehead or check if she has chills or is sweating. There is no way I could fall into a deep sleep.
When morning comes, I wake up and order room service, ensuring its freshly squeezed orange juice. I feel like I can be an ass to the new part-time receptionist this time because I know the kid, as he was training at the development camp in the summer, hoping to turn pro.
Since Harlow is still sound asleep, I decide it’s my moment to take a shower, as one of us has to hold it together today.
My shower is good, a little extra long as I take in my moment of solitude, as if I need to meditate or some shit. I’ve always liked leaving a shower with the bathroom full of steam. The kind where you have to use your forearm to rub the mirror kind of steam. At least that’s a sign that I’m starting the day right, it’s promising.
Opening the door with a towel around my waist, I circle around the corner to find Harlow sitting at the table with a white robe wrapped around her body. The table has two trays of food plus a basket of croissants. Staying in a boutique hotel also equates to fancy trays, with a flower in a glass vase and freshly squeezed orange juice.
Maybe that's why Harlow smiles before she brings a tissue to her nose. “Hey, they dropped off breakfast. For some reason the guy on the other side of the door had this snarly look and then brightened when he realized it was me. He even mumbled that it was his lucky day, which I would assume is because someone is a little grumpy with the front desk here.” Even pale and with a hoarse voice, she manages to scold me in a way that I’ll never get tired of, but then she rewarded me when she heard me tell Holden to give the staff bonuses.
I throw her a weak smile while I head to my suitcase for clothes. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“I’m famished,” she says while she picks up her fork, then throws me a quick glance over her shoulder. “Stay in your towel. Nothing else. Do it for me. It gives me strength and encouragement to persevere with this virus from hell.”
I chuckle then give up on finding a shirt. “Well, if you put it that way. And someone must be feeling a little better.”
“I am. My throat is a little tender, and my nose could use a steam bath, but perhaps the end is in sight.”
Still, I lean over from behind to give her a quick kiss on her forehead before sitting across from her at the table with the towel taut around my waist. Pouring myself a cup of coffee, I survey Harlow to really evaluate if she’s feeling better. The verdict is that she’s a tad better.
“Mmm, I love this omelet.” She sucks her fork during her bite.
“I wish I was your fork right now,” I tease.
She laughs before she sets her utensil down, and something draws her attention. “Oh.” She finishes chewing. “I must have gotten a letter at reception.”
I nearly choke on my coffee, and she looks at me oddly. “Wow, that’s piping-hot coffee,” I lie.
Lines form on her head. “Take it easy. We would hate for your tongue to be burned. Could totally set you back for sensual activities.” I love how she speaks so seriously, but it’s just part of our banter.
What I don’t love is that I forgot about that envelope.
It’s too late, as Harlow sniffles her blocked nose before she begins to open the dark blue wax seal. There is no stopping this now.
Her head tips to the side with curiosity. "Strange. Your initial and mine are on the stamp. Huh." She's now intrigued and begins to read it aloud.
Harlow,
We need to add another letter to our pile of envelopes.
You and I have only ever been on a path forward…
I begin to speak as I repeat the contents of the letter I wrote, sitting across from her with an enduring facial expression that will be unreadable to her. “Which is exactly why you knew that one day you would become my wife. I should probably ask you first… Will you marry me?”
When her mouth gapes open, with the corners of her lips tight and eyes glistening with a new energy, I have to give her the grin that I’ve been holding in.
“Uhm, first, yes. Absolutely, yes.” Harlow speaks as though this is a normal day, then she holds her finger up before she sneezes into her arm. “Holy shit, you proposed while I’m sick and look like a complete mess.”
I get up and circle around the table to kneel down in front of her, sneaking my hands between the flaps of the robe to settle just above her knees. “I wasn’t exactly planning it this way, but hey, at least it’s at the place where we met. Points for us.”
Tears begin to rain down her cheeks, and she smiles uncontrollably. I tip my head up and stretch to kiss her lips, and instantly she revolts.
“I’m snotty and eww. I’m going to get you sick.”
I chuckle. “I don’t care. You just said yes. Besides, we can both be sick together in bed. All the more reason to have sex like it’s medicine.”
