Rosie wasn’t even twelve yet, and though she was past the age of playing with her doll houses and the wooden figures Knox carved for her each year, I wanted her to maintain her innocence for as long as possible. At thirty, I at least had a fully developed prefrontal cortex and could comprehend the decision I was making.
“Oliver, that can’t possibly—” Dad started, but Mum cut him off with a hand on his arm.
“Leroy, let’s at least hear him out. Oliver, darling, please continue.”
I cleared my throat, glancing at Knox, who nodded encouragingly. This plan had taken most of the night to come up with, but I knew deep down that it was the best chance we had at salvaging this mess. “We invite women from around Wexstone to participate in a holiday courting season. We’ll hold activities for me to get to know each woman, and the day after Christmas, I will propose to one of them.
“I know the media coverage is bad right now. But I think if we do this correctly, it could turn the tide for us there. We’ll make sure that it’s not just women from noble families—it could be anyone. Perhaps we can ask some of the people we trust to recommend and sponsor contestants. I know that you could easily arrange an engagement, and if this doesn’t work then that can still be an option, but this could be a good way to show the people that I’m interested in finding a partner who knows and understands the general population. Make me more relatable to them.”
My father ran his hand over his jaw with a glaze in his eye, deep in thought. Mum stood and walked behind the sofa, running her thumb over the edges of her cashmere cardigan. She bit her lip and looked back and forth between Dad and me.
“What do you think, Leroy?” she asked, a hint of eagerness in her voice.
“I…” He cleared his throat. “I don’t hate the idea. I think it would give us more time. And it would certainly narrow the dating pool for you.”
“Exactly,” I agreed.
“And we would be able to control the narrative a little more,” Knox chimed in.
“Honey,” Mum said as she came over to stand behind me, placing her hand on my shoulder, “I just want to make sureyouare sure.”
I pursed my lips. “Is this how I pictured getting engaged? Absolutely not. But at least in this instance, I retain some agency in the decision. If you two arrange something, how much of a choice do I have?”
She let out a huff of air as she walked back to the sofa and started pacing again.
Dad ran his hand over his jaw again. “I’ll call a few people that I trust. Some of them have daughters who may be a good fit; others may at least know women they can recommend. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything.”
“And I’ll set up a meeting with Mirabel to start planning out activities,” Mum added with a nod.
And with that, we were in full-on planning mode.
I strummed the acoustic guitar strings one last time, playing the final note of “Living on a Prayer,” when I heard a knock on my bedroom door.
“Come in,” I called, knowing that it must be one of my family members. It was late and most of the household was already in bed or had gone home for the night.
“Hey,” Knox greeted as he opened the door. A copper streak darted in after him and beelined to my side. Eugene's cold nose nudged my guitar, making it play a soft note.
“Hey buddy,” I said, scratching Knox’s Viszla behind his ear after I set my guitar down.
Knox walked over and took a seat on the dark gray couch that sat across from my own.
“What’s up? I figured you guys would already be in bed.” I checked my watch, confirming the late hour: It was 1:00 a.m.
“I wanted to come and check on you before I turned in for the night. We really haven’t talked much about everything going on.” He leaned back on the couch and crossed one leg over the other.
I let out a long breath. HowwasI feeling? That was something I kept asking myself but hadn’t really had the time or the emotional energy to give it much thought. I knew that soon the high of everything would settle and I’d have to figure it out.
“Honestly? I’m not even sure.”
“Fair enough,” Knox replied. “Want to talk it out or just leave it for now?”
I ran my hands over my face. If there was anyone who I could and would want to talk this out with, it was Knox. He was my best friend, my brother. He never judged me for anything. He was my closest confidant and partnerin all of this.
“Remember Adelaide Levy? We went to primary school with her and then she tutored me at uni?”
Knox let out a soft laugh. “Yeah, I remember you texting me about her.”
“Well, I had every intention of asking her out on a date the other night at the school’s fundraising gala.” I leaned forward, placing my elbows on my knees. I could hardly believe that had just been two days ago; a lifetime had occurred since then. “Do you remember me telling you about how she never called me after that night right before commencement?”
