“I know.”
“Does she know you love her?” Mrs. Henderson asks.
“I told her. Multiple times.”
“And does she love you?”
I think about the way Marley looked at me before she found out the truth. The way she smiled. The way she said my name. The way she fits against me like she was made to be there.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “I think she does.”
“Then you haven’t lost her yet,” Harold says with certainty. “Hurt her, yes. Made her question everything, absolutely. But if she loves you? She’ll come around. Just give her time.”
“And flowers,” Ethel adds. “Never underestimate the power of flowers.”
“And chocolate,” Mrs. Henderson chimes in.
“And jewelry,” Queenie says with a small smile.
I look around at these four older people who have somehow become my unofficial advisory board on all things life and love, and feel something warm unfurl in my chest.
They’re ridiculous.
But they’re exactly what I need.
“Thank you,” I say, meaning it. “All of you.”
“That’s what we’re here for, dear.” Queenie pats my hand. “Now, tell us more about this girl of yours. I want to hear everything.”
So I do.
I tell them about the night I picked her up, sobbing in the back of my car, the coffee shop, and the fake-dating arrangement. I tell them about how she laughed, how she looked in thatburgundy dress, and how she made me believe I could be more than just the VP or the billionaire.
Then I go on to I tell them about falling in love with her, even when I knew I shouldn’t and about losing her, even though I’d do anything to get her back.
When I finally finish, the sun has set outside Queenie’s window, and the room is bathed in the soft glow of her bedside lamp.
“She sounds perfect for you,” Ethel says quietly.
“She is.”
“Then don’t give up on her, sweetheart. Give her space. Give her time. But don’t give up.”
I nod, something settling in my chest.
Not peace, not exactly.
But purpose.
Determination.
I’ve lost a lot of things in my life and given up on dreams, sacrifices, and possibilities.
But I’mnotgiving up on Marley.
Not without one hell of a fucking fight.
I stay with Queenie and her impromptu advisory board for another hour, listening to their stories and advice, and occasionally to Ethel's inappropriate suggestions about what I should do to win Marley back.
