“Then at least you’ll know for sure where you stand,” my dad cuts me off. “I know you’ve been in pain since you and Emerson were forced apart. It was my fault that happened. Mine and Deb’s. But can you honestly tell me you haven’t spent the past decade wondering what would have happened between you and Emerson ‘if only’? I can’t let you spend the next ten years wondering. Hurting. I need you to hear me now, Abby.”
“I hear you,” I tell him, and it’s true.
“I know it’s scary, sweetheart,” Dad says, resting his hands on my shoulders, “But you’ve got to jump, now. It’s time.”
“OK,” I whisper, “OK, Dad.”
“OK, you’ll jump?” he presses.
“I’ll jump,” I tell him, “But I may fall, you know.”
“There’s always that chance,” he says sadly, “Trust me, I know. But you know what’ll happen if you don’t fall? You’ll fly.”
He kisses my forehead and wraps his arms around me. I hug him back, ferociously. I think this might be the first honest moment we’ve ever shared together. And all I had to do was let my life get almost entirely derailed to bring it about.
Life’s funny, isn’t it?
My dad and I both look up as the front door swings open and a small bundle of fur bounds into the loft. Roxie runs right up to me, whiny with delight to find me still here. When Emerson steps into the loft after her, the same look of relief floods his eyes. He was worried I’d be gone by now. That relief gives way to surprise as he recognizes my dad standing next to me.
“Bob?” Emerson says, looking back and forth between us.
“Hi, Emerson,” my dad replies, going to shake Emerson’s hand. “Sorry to drop in unannounced, I just needed to have a word with my daughter.”
“Oh. Sure,” Emerson says, giving my dad’s hand a firm shake.
“You guys have a lot to talk about. I’ll get out of your hair,” Dad says. “But, Emerson...I know I have no right to ask anything of you, given how I’ve treated you in the past. It’s just—be good to her. Be better to her than I ever was.”
“I intend to be,” Emerson says, training his eyes on my dad. “Whatever she decides that means to her.”
My dad smiles, faintly but resolutely, gives me a final wave, and sees himself out. Emerson and I stare after him as the door closes quietly in his wake. For a moment, the only movement in the room comes from Roxie’s exuberant tail-wagging. When Emerson finally swings his gaze my way, his eyes are full of cautious hope.
“So...” he begins, “Did your dad have any good advice?”
“You know what?” I laugh softly, “He really did.”
“Did that advice involve getting as far away from me as humanly possible?” Emerson asks, taking a step forward.
“Not at all,” I tell him, countering his step, “In fact, it was just the opposite.”
“Huh,” Emerson replies, as we slowly move toward each other in a dance of barely-contained desire. “Does that mean...you’ve come to some kind of decision? About what you want to do happen next?”
“It means that I’m ready to ask for what I’ve wanted for the last ten years,” I reply, as we meet in the center of the loft. I take his hands, take a breath, and take that final leap. “I want to be with you, Emerson. Now and always. I know that what we have is unconventional, and that it’s not going to be an easy journey. But there’s no one else I’d rather be on my journey with. So if you’ll still have me, I’d like to stay here. With you.”
“If I’ll still have you?” Emerson breathes, taking me into his arms, “I’d give up everything to still have you in my life. Not that I’m suggesting that as a game plan, but...”
“We’re really going to do this?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.
“We are,” he replies, circling my waist, “No one can stop us, Abby. Not like before. There’s no one we need to apologize to, nothing we have to explain. We’re free.”
I press myself to him, bringing my lips to his. Our kiss is searing, binding, full of promise and hope. Roxie runs circles around us as our mouths move together, making up for lost time. I grin as I kiss him, happy tears running down my cheeks. As we finally break apart, Emerson brushes a lock of hair behind my ear, gazing at me with great purpose.
“There’s just one last thing we have to figure out, then,” he says, his voice rasping with emotion as he takes my right hand in his.
“What’s that?” I ask, wiping the tears away.
He looks down at my hand, rubbing his thumb over the single pearl glimmering on my finger. I feel my breath catch in my throat as I guess his meaning.
“Would you rather be wearing this...on the other hand?” he asks, his blue eyes gleaming as they drink me in.
“Are you...do you mean...?” I stammer, all my composure going right out the window.
Emerson’s face breaks into a gorgeous grin as he slowly lowers himself onto one knee before me. I laugh with confounded elation as he slips the pearl ring off my right hand.
“What do you say?” he asks, holding the ring up to me.
“I say...Let’s jump,” I breathe, staring down at him.
His smile grows impossibly wide as he slides the band onto my left ring finger. Turns out that I chose my engagement ring when I was just seventeen years old. And you know what? I chose the person I wanted to share my life with when I was seventeen, too. It just took us both a while to realize it.
Emerson stands and scoops me up into his arms as we both burst into ecstatic laughter. This has to be the least conventional relationship anyone’s ever heard of, but it’s ours. No one can take us away from each other, no one else gets the final say. But there is one last thing I have to ask him, now.
“Are you going to take me to bed now or what?” I grin, running my hands along his impeccably cut chest.
He slips an arm under my knees, and carries me toward the bedroom like a bride on her wedding night. We’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves, maybe. But we’ve always done things out of order, Emerson and I. Only now are we catching up to where we left off at eighteen. But if there’s one thing I’m sure of now, after all these years, is that what we have has always—always—been worth the wait.
Epilogue
One year later...