September 6

Ten months have passed since I went to England. Ten months since I met my hot tour guide. Ten months since my life changed forever.

I’m the same woman as I was then, only I know myself much better now. I know how to be happy. I know what I like.

Best of all, I know what it feels like to love someone.

I also know, for the first time, what it feels like to be a success. Sales on my blog book have been so good that the publishing company has already asked for a second one, and I’m more than happy to oblige by churning out more blog entries. It looks like the Stepbitch and I are in this tenuous relationship of ours for the long haul.

But something far more important than my blog has been occupying my brain in recent days. There’s a man in England who still texts me each day. A man who’s been patient with me, who hasn’t hassled me, or forced me to move faster than I wanted to.

A man who’s given me so much space that I honestly don’t know if he still wants me.

All I know is that I still want him, more than ever, and it’s about time I told him so.

Every morning and evening I’ve thought about him, even on days when we hardly speak. I miss him as much now as I did when I left him last November. I miss his touch, his face, his voice. I fantasize about him, dream about him. When I’m stressed I reach for him, even knowing he’s not there. Some part of me feels him squeezing my hand, telling me it’ll be okay. He may be an ocean away, but he’s also right here, next to me. Ready to help. Ready to listen.

At least in my dreams he is.

I haven’t told him yet, but I’ve decided that I’m going to fly to London. I’ve even bought a ticket to Heathrow on a flight leaving on September tenth. I’m going to surprise him—which might just be the worst idea ever. It’s entirely possible that he’s sleeping with someone and just hasn’t told me about it. He has every right to, of course. I’ve never asked him to commit to me. I’ve never made any such demand of him.

I’ve only hoped to find him still single.

But after everything I’ve been through, I know now that whatever madness life throws my way, I’ll be okay. If I find that he’s with someone else, I’ll give him a quick hug, tell him I’m happy for him, and walk away. I’m not saying it won’t hurt; I’m not a fucking benevolent angel. But I love Galen enough to want his happiness, even if it means that I lose him. He’s helped me to find my strength again. He’s been a constant support, and so much more than that. He has been reliable and kind, the best friend I’ve ever had.

I’m scared to death of losing that friendship, but I can’t wait to see him.

But in the meantime, I have to get through the next few days.

My parents are having a Labour Day barbecue tonight. I’m supposed to show up, and I plan to do so. I’ll wear a nice, form-fitting dress, bring a bottle of wine, chat with Susan and her new boyfriend. I’ll smile and listen to everyone’s stories about their perfect children and perfect lives, knowing in secret that I don’t have to envy them, because I have the best life I can possibly imagine.

By three o’clock, I’m already getting ready to go over and help my mother to prepare. Primping in front of the mirror, I’m trying to tame my wild curls into submission as always. I’ve got minimal makeup on, but for once I think I actually look sort of pretty.

That, of course, is Galen’s influence. He always told me I was beautiful, even when I had puffy eyes and mascara streaking down my face. I’ve finally begun to see myself as he does. For the first time in my life, I feel like an attractive woman.

I’m wearing a yellow dress with delicate purple butterflies on it that remind me of him. Of how my stomach always felt tied up in delicious knots of anticipation and arousal around him. Of how I feel, every time I think about the fact that I’ll see him very soon.

His eyes.

His lips.

His hands.

But there’s another component to today’s outfit, one that I’ve never worn before. For the first time, I’m wearing the silver teardrop earrings Galen gave me. He always said they were a symbol of his appreciation of my existence, but to me they represent him. What he’s done for my ego, my spirit and my soul. If anything, they symbolize my appreciation of him.

Right. One quick dab of lip gloss, and I’m ready to head out. I’ve just smiled at my reflection and grabbed the doorknob when my phone buzzes.

A text from Galen greets my eyes. This is odd—he doesn’t usually text me at this hour, but I’m hardly complaining.

Hello, Gorgeous. You busy?

I type up a quick response:

Just on my way to my mother’s to help out with a barbecue. Nice to hear from you, though.

Listen—I know you’re in a rush, but if you have a second, there’s something we need to talk about.

I swallow hard as a feeling of nausea wafts over me. Oh, shit. Not the We need to talk talk. Please, not right now. I can’t face my family tonight if this is about to happen.

“Be strong, Riley,” I tell myself. “You can take anything.”

Okay, I write. What’s up?

Well, it’s just that our ten months are up. Rather, your ten months, as I never imposed such stringent sanctions upon myself.

Yes, I reply. True. Okay, is he going to tell me he’s seeing someone? Fuck it. Whether he does or not, I should tell him how I’m feeling. I’ve been holding it in for so long, and he deserves to hear it. Galen—before you say anything, I should tell you—I wanted to come see you.

Oh, he replies. Were you going to come to London soon? Because the thing is, I’m out of town at the moment.

My heart sinks. Out of town? Shit again.

For how long? I ask. I’m disappointed that I might have to wait, but I can change my ticket, after all.

Don’t get me wrong—I’m very eager to see you. But I won’t be in London for at least another week or two.

Okay, I write. I want to cry, but I remind myself of all the progress I’ve made. It’s all fine. I’ve waited ten months; what’s another few weeks? Okay, let me know when is good for you. My schedule is wide open. I should have checked with you in the first place, but I wanted to surprise you.

Sorry to spoil it, love. By the way, I have something to tell you. Don’t worry; it’s nothing bad.

I’m about to type “What is it?” when a knock sounds at the front door.

Shit number three.

It’s got to be Susan or Mom. Damn it, I was on my way over, I mutter. I don’t really want to see anyone right at this moment. I need at least five minutes to get over my disappointment at the scheduling fiasco.

But since I don’t have five minutes, I flit over the door like a light-footed starlet and fling it open, a big, slightly fake smile on my face as I prepare for the worst.

“Yeeesssss?” I say as I throw the door open, even as my eyes meet the figure standing in the doorway.

A tall, lean, muscular, gorgeous man is standing before me, staring down into my eyes with the most amazing grin on his face. In his metallic left hand, he’s clutching a dozen red roses.

“Hello, Miss Simmons. I thought we could see if we’ve evolved, now ten months are up,” he tells me. “I was wondering if you’d be up for a real date with a one-armed Englishman who adores every single thing about you.”

Silently, I grab the roses from him and lay them on the side table behind me. I turn back to him. Right now I have no idea what expression’s on my face. I can’t feel any part of my body. I’m numb—or tingly—or something in between.

He leans forward, concern furrowing his brow in the most adorable way. “Riley? Should I regret coming?” he asks. “Is this too much of a shock?”

I shake my head, unable to speak. The thing is, I want to cry. I’ve never been so happy in my entire life.

Flinging my arms around his neck, I squeeze so hard that I feel like I might wrench my arms out of their sockets. He squeezes me back and picks me up off the floor, letting out a deep, relieved laugh.

“I love you,” I breathe into his ear. It’s the first time I’ve said those words out loud. I never expected it to happen quite like this, but it feels so good. “I love you so much, Galen.”

“I love you, too” he replies. “I’ve loved you from the first moment I saw you staring at my robot hand in that pub, my awkward little goddess.”

I slip down onto my toes, pulling away so that I can look at him and remind myself that he’s really here. Tears are clouding my vision, but not enough to rob me of the sight of Galen’s perfect face.

“My parents are having a barbecue,” I blurt out. “I have to get over there. I promised…”

“I understand,” he says. “I can wait here, or find a coffee shop, or…”

“No, you don’t understand,” I laugh. “I want you to come. Would you please come with me?”

He nods. “Of course. I’d love to meet your family.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” I tell him. “What I really want right now is to rip your clothes off…”

“There’s no reason we can’t do both,” he says. “Look, I’ll be here for at least a week, if you’ll have me. There’s plenty of time to get naked together later.”

I shake my head. “I’ve waited—we’ve waited—far too long to delay nudity for one more second,” I growl in my sexiest voice. I flick my wrist over and look down at the Stepbitch. It’s 3:05.

“Just one second,” I say, grabbing my phone. I shoot a quick text to my mother, grab Galen’s hand, slam the front door and lead him up to my bedroom.

When we’ve shut the door, he pulls me to him and kisses me long and hard.

It’s a perfect kiss. A kiss that might never have been. One that came to pass only because we both held off for months.

We’ve both been waiting for so long for this moment that our mutual hunger is storming our insides. But there won’t be any more need for hunger, not for either of us. Our starvation diet is at an end.

“I can change my ticket to London,” I tell him when he pulls away to look into my eyes. I want him to know how serious I am about him, about us. “I can go with you…”

“Good,” he replies. “Because I wanted to ask you to be my guest at Conlon and Adriana’s wedding.”

“Wait, what?” It suddenly hits me that I’ve spoken to Galen every day for ten months, but he’s never once mentioned the wedding. “I always figured that it happened already. They’re not married yet?”

“It was supposed to take place in June,” he says. “But I asked if they’d consider delaying.”

“Seriously? Why?” I ask, my jaw dropping.

“So that you could come with me after your ten months were through, of course. Keep up, would you?”

A happy laugh escapes my lips. “You were assuming that I’d come back.”

He nods. “I don’t mean to sound arrogant, but I’ve been fairly sure for some time that you’re as crazy about me as I am about you, Simmons.”

“You’re not wrong,” I say. “But I can’t believe they were willing to delay the wedding just for me.”

“It’s not going to be a big ceremony anyhow. They may be rich, but they don’t like crowds. And they’ll be very happy to have you there. By the way, how long can you stay in London?”

“That’s the thing,” I reply quietly. “There’s something I should probably tell you.”

“Tell me, then.”

“The plane ticket—it’s a one-way fare. I want to stay forever. I want to come live in London.”

Relief hits me as the smile spreads over his handsome features. “Even better.” He takes my hand and leads me towards the bed. “Because there’s something I want to sort of, almost ask you,” he says when he’s turned to face me.

The butterflies from my dress have migrated to a place deep inside my stomach. This is a day of surprises. “Ask away,” I say.

“Don’t book a room in London. Come live with me. See how you like it. Then, perhaps, in ten months or so…”

“Yes?”

“You might consider…marrying me.”

“What?” The word explodes out of me like a shot. “Really?”

I’ve been engaged before. But not to someone I adored. Not to the man of my dreams. Every part of me is screaming yes except for my mouth.

For all the times I’ve thought about Galen over the months, I never even dared fantasize about a moment this good. Never dared to even hope that our strange relationship could result in an engagement. Never thought it might end in forever.

A perfect day just got even better.

“Did I just terrify you?” he asks, but he’s laughing. I suspect he knows full well that he just made me very happy.

“Not at all,” I reply, pushing him onto his back and climbing up to straddle him. “You did exactly the opposite, in fact.”

“Does that mean you might answer my almost-sort-of-question before another ten months have actually gone by?”

I nod. “I’ll come live with you, Galen. As for the other question…”

“What are you saying, Riley, my love?” he asks.

I answer him with a smile, a kiss and a nod. “I’ve spoken to you every day for ten months. I’ve held your imaginary hand when I needed you. I’ve dreamed about you, I’ve missed you, I’ve loved you. Of course I want to be your wife.”

When we show up at the barbecue two hours later, it’s as a secretly engaged couple. I figure that we should ease my parents and Susan into this. It’s their first time meeting Galen, and they don’t even know yet that I plan to leave the country. Baby steps.

There’s no diamond ring on my finger. But dangling from my ears is a very beautiful pair of silver earrings from Paris that perfectly express my tears of joy.

I am a happy woman.

And I’m a woman who knows for the first time exactly what she wants out of life.