“I’m serious.”
“No games?”
“No games.”
“I don’t believe you.” Arctic. In October. Tracy was practically blowing white smoke from her lips, that’s how frosty her tone was.
“It’s barely been four months. It’s a bit early to get engaged.”
Four months and a lifetime. I was tired of waiting. I wanted all of Florence.
“It is. So we can have a long engagement—it’s up to Florence.”
“You know she’s not ready for kids yet. I know she’s turning thirty in a couple months and stuff, but she’s not going to have kids immediately.”
I nodded. “That’s fine, whatever she’s comfortable with. I’m okay with waiting, or not having kids at all.”
“I’m going to pick the biggest, shiniest, most expensive ring in the whole freaking store.” Tracy threw her hands above her head, as if signaling exactly how big the ring was going to be. Apparently massive. “Because Florence deserves nothing less.”
“Please do. Nothing but the best.”
Tracy jabbed me in the chest indignantly, hard enough to bruise. She really needed to quit that. “And you can afford it anyway.”
“Sure.”
Tracy crossed her arms over her chest. She tapped a foot impatiently. “And she should also get a necklace, bracelet, and earring set for the wedding.”
“Make sure it all matches.”
Momentarily out of demands, Tracy readjusted her crossed arms and looked me up and down.
“So, do I get a prize for helping?”
I gave her a small grin and took a step towards her. “I’ll tell you what,” I said in a low voice, nearly conspiratorial. “Point out what you like, and I’ll make sure Florence gets to gift the maid of honor some nice jewelry for the wedding.”
At the sound of “maid of honor,” Tracy’s eyes lit up. She chewed her bottom lip, confused and conflicted. She so desperately wanted to detest me. “So who’s going to be your best man? I can’t be paired with some weird-looking guy when I walk down the aisle.”
“Nicolas.”
She paused and thinned her lips to fight a smile. “I suppose that’ll do,” she said in a bored tone as she hopped two steps towards the entrance.
“Only the best for her best friend,” I said.
Tracy flicked her hair back, calling at me over her shoulder as she strolled into the store as if she owned the place. “Better call your bank—you’re about to drop some serious cash.”
* * *
We walked hand in hand into the fields, and the sound of the party slowly faded into the noises of the night. An owl hooted and the trees rustled with a gentle wind. Florence shivered and I wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“Are you cold?”
Florence shook her head stubbornly, but I could see that her skin prickled with goose bumps.
“You should have brought your hat and scarf,” I scolded her lightly.
Florence gave a small pout.
“Not cold!” she insisted.
I stopped walking and twisted around, swinging her so she faced me. She continued talking while I doffed my baseball hat.
“Besides, I’m so filled with turkey and pumpkin pie, that stuff will keep me insulated until spring,” she said.
“Uh-huh.” I jammed my hat onto her head, the brim falling to cover her eyes.
Florence pushed the brim back. “Like those fat squirrels,” she added.
I removed my scarf and wound it around Florence’s neck. “Fat squirrels?”
She grinned. “Got to keep warm for the winter.”
I tightened the scarf, draping the ends over her arms. “Hey, I have an idea,” I said.
“Oh, man,” Florence groaned. “Your ideas never end well.”
“Let’s go hunting.”
Florence huffed out an impatient breath and rolled her eyes. “It’s November, genius,” she said. “Firefly season is over.”
“Then let’s go hunt for shooting stars. We’ll pretend it’s firefly season in the sky.”
I tugged on the scarf and brought Florence closer to me. She fell against my chest and I marveled down at her. She smiled slightly and went up on her toes to plant a light kiss on my mouth. Her lips were cold, but her breath hot. My heart rate picked up.
Florence looked up to the sky and I looked at her. Her breath came out in small puffs of white mist and her cheeks were chilled to a soft pink. My wretched heart twisted and pulled at the sight of her.
Everything was going to be just fine, as long as we were together.
“It’s a clear night. Good night for wishes,” she said.
I grinned. “Great night for wishes.”
“You’ll go with me?”
“Always.”
Florence smiled, her eyes warming. She gave my hand a gentle tug and pulled me along as she started towards the woods. “Then let’s go.”
And I followed her.
Endlessly and until forever.
Always.
“In the book, which is my memory, on the front page of the chapter that is the day when I first met you, appear the words … ‘Here begins a new life.’” – Dante Alighieri