Page 52 of Break Me Gently

Luke glared at Zach, tapping a plastic Scrabble tile against the board with more force than necessary.

“You all want me to lose to the golden boy,” Luke grumbled.

“I didn’t say a word,” I protested.

“You were thinking it.”

“I’m regretting picking tonight’s game,” I mumbled under my breath.

How was I supposed to know these two would treat a game of Scrabble like a death match?

I yawned and stretched my arms out. It momentarily broke Zach’s gaze from the board, catching him staring at my boobs instead.

“Aren’t you tired, Mum?”

Her eyes flicked up as she assessed the situation.

“I am, you know. It’s hard creating a child at my age,” she said, slowly rising to her feet like an eighty-year-old.

Damn. She was good.

“No. Wait. Five more minutes,” Luke said, glaring at Zach.

“Victory shall be mine,” Zach said gleefully. “Move over, boomer. It’s time for the new generation.”

I hooked my arm through Mum’s as we walked out of Luke’s grand living room and into his equally grand foyer. His house had those twin staircases—the kind you only get, I assume, in case you’re in a bad mood with someone and want the option of taking your own separate route down.

We only made it halfway up the stairs when Zach and Luke joined us. They could pretend all they wanted, but I knew Luke had been quietly discussing career routes with Zach, offering solid advice on progression and how to safeguard his trust fund properly. I had no idea how Luke even knew about that—Mum didn’t even know about it. And Zach had actually listened.

I loved having Zach over at Luke’s place. He seemed to get a genuine kick out of sleeping with me under Luke’s roof. Their pettiness worked well in my favour, in that particular department.

We reached the top of the stairs, and Luke took my mum’s arm from mine.

“Goodnight, poppet,” he said, before whisking her away down the hallway.

My mum laughed at something he whispered in her ear, then turned back to wave at us, and I caught how genuinely happy she looked. She’d never been miserable, exactly, but this was different. This was content. Those quiet moments where she used to just vanish into herself, lost somewhere I couldn’t follow, were gone now. We had five months before the baby came, and I’d already be at uni by then. That was going to be hard.

“I love seeing them like this—happy,” I murmured, as we climbed the next set of stairs.

“Yeah, he seems good for her.”

“Wow, high praise from you,” I said, turning to look at him.

“He grows on you,” he said, shrugging.

We reached my room and he opened the door. I paused when I saw the rose petals scattered across the bed. I stepped closer and spotted the small square box sitting in the middle of it all.

I felt him close in behind me, his hands settling on my arms.

“Marry me.”

It felt surreal. All those times I’d written our names together in my diary. All those childish fairy tales I used to spin in my head, back when wanting him felt like the most shameful secret in the world.

“Shouldn’t you be kneeling?” I whispered.

“Only if you’re naked.”

Fair enough.