At the reception, Madison was briefly distracted from her own confusion by talking to Charlie about her romantic turmoil. It made her feel strangely better—that she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t work things out.

Charlie was planning to try, however, so that meant Madison needed to try too. She’d made a little progress earlier, but she still hadn’t confronted what was bothering her head-on.

When the dancing at the reception started, Timothy got up to lead her to the floor without saying a word. She couldn’t help but love how it felt in his arms, swaying against him, knowing that everyone could see them like this, would assume that they were together.

She felt like she was his, but she wasn’t.

The reality kept nagging at her as they danced until she couldn’t think of anything else.

She needed to say something, do something. Timothy was right about her. Her friends were right. She’d lived too long hiding behind other people’s needs, veiling her own wants and needs from the world—and from herself.

She didn’t want to do that anymore.

But how was she supposed to address this particular issue without just blurting out that she was crazy about Timothy.

They’d only had sex twice. It was far too early to admit to having feelings. Most guys would run away terrified if a woman did something like that to them, and Timothy had more reason than most to be hesitant.

She felt emotionally trapped, and it made her feel restless and jittery. She wasn’t much of a conversationalist that evening, but Timothy was unusually quiet himself, so he didn’t appear to mind.

When the reception petered out, she and Timothy seemed to decide at the same time that it was time to go. They went up to their floor together, and when they reached the room, Madison opened her mouth to say something, address the jumble of feelings in her chest.

No words came out.

Timothy had stopped too, his eyes soft on her face. Without speaking, he reached out to take her hand and gently pulled her into his room.

They didn’t have sex. They just went to bed together. He held her in his arms until she fell asleep.

She loved it. She loved all of it.

But she still wanted to say something, ask something, that she couldn’t get out.

***

The next morning, Madison slept in later than the day before. She’d had two very late nights and extremely emotional days, and it finally caught up with her. It was almost nine when she opened her eyes to discover she was still in Timothy’s bed.

She was wearing one of his T-shirts and her panties, and her pretty dress was draped over a chair. She felt groggy and befuddled and so confused she sat up straight in bed.

Timothy was sitting at the desk with his laptop, wearing nothing but his pajama pants. They were blue flannel with purple, big-eyed sheep on them because Jenny had picked them out for him.

He looked over at her when she sat up.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“You popped up like something bit you. Did you have one of those memories that attack you?”

“No. I was just… disoriented. I can’t believe I slept so late. I never sleep late.”

“Well, you can sleep even later if you want. It’s not even nine yet.”

“Are you grading papers over there?”

He chuckled. “Just finishing up the last one.”

“Oh. Good.”

“We’ve got a couple of hours before we need to check out.”

“Oh. Good.”

“I can order us some room service if you’re hungry.”

“Oh.”

“Good?” His eyebrows arched dryly.

She gave him a sheepish smile. “Yeah.”

He reached for the phone. “What do you want?”

“Oh anything is fine. It doesn’t matter.”

He frowned. “Are we really going to have to have this conversation about breakfast?”

She knew exactly what he was talking about and exactly why he was giving her that disapproving look. She was doing it again—acting like what she wanted didn’t really matter. “Waffle,” she said with a little smile. “I might go over to my room to take a shower before it comes.”

“You can use my shower if you want,” he said, starting to dial the phone.

That seemed reasonable to her since she didn’t really want to walk across the hall in his T-shirt. She went to the bathroom, found the pleasant-smelling body wash, shampoo and conditioner in little bottles that Timothy hadn’t touched, and took them into the shower with her.

It had been a perfectly fine morning. Unusual for her, but nothing bad or upsetting or even particularly emotional. It was all fine, and she thought she was in a more reasonable mood than she’d been the evening before.

But as the hot water sprayed down on her, she burst into tears.

It took her a while to figure out why, but she did eventually. This was so close to what she wanted—so close to the way she wanted to be with Timothy. It was almost what she wanted.

But not quite. Not everything.

Maybe it was unreasonable to expect to be in a full-fledged relationship after one weekend together, but she’d known Timothy most of her life, and she’d loved him for almost a year.

She couldn’t do this partway. It wasn’t who she was. It wasn’t what she wanted.

And Timothy wasn’t offering her everything.

All he’d offered her was sex, and he hadn’t even clarified whether it would last past this weekend.

She managed to pull herself together before she turned off the water, but she was tired and drained as she dried off.

She put on the white robe the hotel provided and wrapped the towel around her wet hair. She checked her eyes in the mirror, but they didn’t look bloodshot or anything. Pasting a smile on her face, she opened the door and went back into the room.

Timothy had closed his laptop and was just sitting in the chair at the desk, staring at a blank space in the air.

“There’s great water pressure here,” she said cheerfully.

He blinked and raised his eyes to look at her. “Yeah.”

His expression was strangely blank, and it unnerved her, so she distracted herself by saying, “I’m going to dry my hair.”

She found the hair dryer under the sink in a fabric pouch, plugged it in, and finger combed her hair as she dried.

She couldn’t do a real blowout without her brush, but she was mostly just wanting something to do.

Irrationally, she felt tears welling up behind her eyes again as she worked on her hair. She fought them back, focusing on the motion of her hands.

She was focusing so much she gave a little shriek when someone was suddenly behind her, reaching over to unplug the hairdryer. “What are you doing?” she demanded, turning to look at Timothy with a jerk of her body.

“You’re not happy.”

“What are you talking about?” Her voice was sharper than normal because she’d been surprised and because his question had hit so close to the truth.

His eyes were knowing, very sober. “You’re not happy.”

“I am too happy.” She was arguing just to argue, and she heard it as she said the words. So she corrected, “I’m really fine.”

“Are you?”

“What about you? Are you happy? Are you fine?”

“No,” he said, a rough texture in his voice. “I’m not either of those things.”

Her heart dropped at his admission, and she suddenly saw what was going to happen. He wasn’t happy, and he knew she wasn’t either. He was going to call their fling a huge mistake and say they had to go back to the way they’d been.

And she didn’t want that.

She didn’t want it at all.

She opened her mouth to say exactly that when a phone rang across the room.

It was Timothy’s ringtone, and he walked over to look at the screen. “It’s Jenny.”

“Answer it,” Madison said immediately. What she’d been going to say could wait.

With a sigh, Timothy connected the call and sat down on the edge of the bed. He was still wearing his big-eyed sheep pajama pants. His feet were bare, and his hair was mussed, and Madison had never wanted anyone in the world as much as she wanted him right now.

“Hey, Jenny,” he said, a smile in his voice but not on his face. “How are you?”

Madison couldn’t hear the other end of the call, but Jenny evidently asked him a whole series of questions because Timothy mostly answered with “yes” and “of course” and “That’s right.”

Madison waited it out, hoping the girl was having a good weekend and that nothing that happened between her and Timothy would hurt Jenny in even the slightest of ways.

After a few minutes, Timothy stood up and walked over to where Madison was standing. He handed her the phone without speaking.

Madison made sure she had a smile on her face before she spoke her greeting. “Hi, sweetie! How are you?”

Jenny didn’t answer the question. Instead, she asked, “Why is Daddy not happy?”

“He is, Jenny. Why wouldn’t he be?”

“He doesn’t sound happy. He sounds like he’s pretending.”

“I don’t think he’s pretending.”

“Yes, he is. I know Daddy. Did something bad happen?”

“No, nothing bad happened at all. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“He’s not happy, and I’m not there to help him. Would you please help him, Madison?”

The sweet, earnest question nearly did Madison in. She swallowed hard and managed to say, “Of course I will. But there’s really nothing for you to worry about.”

“You’re coming home later today?”

“Yes. Later today. We’ll see you soon.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too, Jenny. So much.”

Timothy’s eyes had that urgent look again when Madison handed him back the phone. He said his own goodbyes to Jenny, and then he ended the call.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

“She’s worried,” Timothy said at last.

“She thinks you’re unhappy.”

“And I know you’re unhappy.”

Madison took a little breath. “I guess having a fling doesn’t really work when you’re in our situation.”

“No,” he agreed. “It really doesn’t.”

She nodded and swallowed again. “I don’t want things to get messed up between us.”

“We won’t let that happen. What do you… what do you need me to do?”

The question hurt—a lot. He was being his kind, considerate self—and making it clear they could never be together.

She couldn’t answer immediately. She couldn’t answer at all.

Timothy made a frustrated sound in his throat. “You’re really not going to tell me what you want, even now?”

Madison jerked her head up, gasping in indignation. “What? What? You’re exasperated with me?”

“Yes, I’m exasperated. You’re not happy, but you’re not going to tell me what it would take to make you happy.”

“You didn’t ask what would make me happy. You asked what I needed you to do.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Don’t you know the difference? What the hell do you expect me to say?”

“The truth. I expect you to tell me the truth. I expect you to tell me what you want. I expect you to finally pull back the veil and show me who you really are, what’s really in your heart.”

“What’s the point of pulling the veil, of saying the truth if I can never have what I want?” She bit the question out, at the end of her patience.

He stared at her silently for a moment. Then, “Why do you think you can’t have it?”

“Because I can’t!” she burst out. “I can’t. You don’t understand. You’ve never understood what the problem really is. I don’t want a fling. I don’t just want to feel good. I want your heart. Your heart. And you’ve already given it away.”

To her horror, she was crying again, tears streaming down her cheeks. She brushed them away only to see Timothy staring at her in obvious shock.

He couldn’t believe what she’d just said.

She couldn’t believe it either.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a wobbly voice. “I know things can never go back to the way they were now. I know it’s always going to be awkward. But you asked. You kept asking. And that’s the truth I could never say.”

Since she couldn’t seem to stop crying, she had no choice but to leave the room.

She hurried to the door and then closed it behind her. She’d reached her own door when Timothy caught her.

He’d evidently followed her, and he must have run to catch her so fast.

When he grabbed her shoulder to turn her around, she gasped. “What are you doing?”

He stepped her back against the wall to the hallway. “Exactly how blind can you be?”

“What?” she breathed, baffled and disoriented and suddenly realizing she was still wearing nothing but his T-shirt and her panties.

“How can you not see—how can you not know that I’m completely in love with you?”

“What?” she breathed again, more urgent this time. She heard the words he’d said, but they didn’t make sense.

Nothing made sense.

Timothy cupped her cheek with one of his hands. “I’ve been in love with you for months now. Completely head over heels for you. But I’ve been trying to make myself hold back because you didn’t seem to feel the same way.”

“What?” she squeaked.

A warm light glimmered behind the earnestness of his expression. “Can’t you say anything but what?”

“What?” she said before she could stop herself. She giggled and raised a hand to cover her mouth, her mind finally starting to catch up to what was happening.

“You should have told me what you wanted a long time ago, and we both could have avoided this drama.”

“What?” she demanded in a different tone. “You’re really blaming all this on me?”

“Who else?”

She was almost sputtering now, even though she could see the amused glint in his eyes. “You could have told me what you wanted a long time ago too.”

“I thought I had.”

“You never told me anything.”

“I kept arranging dates for us. All kinds of dates. Why do you think I kept doing that? And how do you think I felt when you kept turning them into something else?”

“You were… you were doing that on purpose?”

“Of course I was doing that on purpose. Do you think I accidently stumbled into romantic outings and candlelit dinners with you?” He was leaning into her now, and she could feel the warmth of his body.

“There were only candles once!”

“That’s supposed to be your closing argument? There were only candles once?”

“And you brought your parents to the movie with you!” she burst out, remembering another fact in her favor.

His features twisted just slightly. “I… I did. I’m sorry. It was supposed to be a date. A real date. I was so excited. I thought… I hoped you might like me a little, that your feelings for me were finally changing. I was so excited about it that I started to feel guilty about it, like I shouldn’t be feeling that way, like I shouldn’t be so completely into any woman other than Emily. So I guilted myself into emotional quicksand, and I almost canceled on you. I came so close because I was such a guilty emotional wreck. My mom wouldn’t let me. She knew how I felt about you, and she didn’t want me to give up completely. So she suggested they come along so the date wouldn’t feel so significant to me. It was the only way I could let myself do it back then.”

She stared at him for a moment, her lips parted as she processed his words. “Oh, Timothy,” she said, her voice breaking. “I had no idea you were going through all that. You could have told me. I would have understood.”

“I know you would have. I should have told you. But why do you think I can recognize so easily what it looks like to hide your heart? Because I’m just as good at it as you are.”

Her eyes burned for a moment at the depth of his words.

Then he added, “But clearly I figured it out before you did.”

“Oh, you big asshole,” she said, falling into giggles even as she swatted at his chest. “You know this isn’t all my fault. You didn’t say anything either. It’s both of us.”

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her. “I know,” he admitted. “Of course it’s both of us. At first I was scared and guilty—like I was somehow betraying Emily by wanting you so much. And then it seemed so much like you were keeping me in the friend zone that I couldn’t risk the heartache. And I couldn’t risk losing what I had with you. I don’t know how Jenny and I would have made it these last two years without you, Madison. I try to be a nice guy. I keep trying to be a nice guy and be content with what I have. But I can’t always be as nice as I should. Maybe it’s selfish to want even more of you than I already have, but I do. I want everything.”

She whimpered against his bare shoulder, wondering if she was dreaming this because it felt like every dream she’d ever had was coming true.

“I love you, honey,” Timothy murmured into her damp hair. “I love you. And Jenny loves you. And I want you to love us just as much.”

“I do,” she said, raising her head so she could look him in the eye. “I love you both with everything that’s in me to love.”

She saw the breaking of feeling on his face. She could see how much her words meant to him.

Then he kissed her, and she knew it yet again.

They were still kissing when the server came with the room service tray, but Madison was too happy to be embarrassed about being caught making out in the hall in just a T-shirt with a man who was wearing big-eyed sheep pajamas.

They went back into his room to eat their breakfast, and then they made love in bed with urgent, needy tenderness.

Madison’s big weekend hadn’t gone anything like she’d expected, but she’d ended up getting everything she wanted.

Far more than she’d ever believed she could get.

***

Four months later, Madison was trying to get ready for a night out with Timothy, and nothing was going smoothly.

First her blow-dryer died halfway through her hair, so she’d had to use Timothy’s—a wimpy travel-size device that wasn’t nearly strong enough to deal with her hair.

Then, halfway through her makeup, she remembered a load of laundry she’d started that morning and left wet in the washer all day. So she had to run to the laundry closet in the hall and move it to the dryer before she forgot again and left it sitting all night.

Then Jenny wanted to go over her vocab words for a test tomorrow, so Madison stopped to review them with her for ten minutes.

So when Timothy got home at just before six—since he’d stayed late in his office to finish grading papers—Madison was wearing her robe with half-dried hair and half-done makeup.

“I know,” she said before he’d had time to say anything. “Our reservation is at six thirty, and I’m not even close to ready. I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

They were going downtown to eat dinner and then to a play. Madison had been excited about it for a couple of weeks, but now she was hassled and flustered.

“There’s no hurry,” Timothy said with a little smile. “I still need to shower and change myself. Those papers took forever to grade. They’re—”

“The bane of your existence,” Jenny finished for him soberly.

“Exactly right,” Timothy said, nodding as if she’d said something very wise.

Madison left Jenny to review her vocab words one more time and went into the bedroom to finish getting ready. While Timothy was in the shower, she put on her underwear, stockings, and jewelry and—since he showered in about three minutes—she hadn’t gotten any further than that when he came out into the bedroom completely naked.

She took a moment to admire his body but told herself not to get distracted since they really were getting short on time. Timothy had been so quick in the shower that he hadn’t even steamed up the mirror, so she went back to the vanity to finish with her makeup.

Most of the time, she used moisturizer and maybe a little lip gloss. So it always took her longer than it should to put on makeup for real. She was still working on her mascara when Timothy came into the bathroom, wearing his trousers and a dress shirt. He stood in front of the mirror to knot his tie, and she got distracted with watching him and thinking how incredibly attractive he was and how she really couldn’t believe he was hers.

“What?” he asked, slanting her a quick look in the mirror without turning his head.

“Nothing. Just you’re looking particularly fine this evening.”

“You think so?”

“Oh yeah.”

He leaned over to kiss her lightly on the side of her mouth. “That’s always nice to hear.”

“I’ll look pretty good too if I can ever finish getting dressed.”

“You already look pretty good.” His eyes ran up and down her body. “I’d have no complaints if you just stopped there.”

She giggled at the lilt in his tone. “I’m not sure how far I’d get in just my underwear.”

“I can tell you right now you wouldn’t get farther than the door. I’d be dragging you into bed before you could get to the car.”

Laughing, she swiped on some lip gloss—giving up on the idea of real lipstick—and decided she was made up enough.

“You’re laughing like I was making a joke,” Timothy said, fixing his collar over his tie.

“I know a joke when I hear one. You’re far too nice a guy to drag me—or anyone else—anywhere.”

“I could drag if I had good reason.”

She turned to face him, her lips wobbling irrepressibly. “You really think you’re a dragger?”

He took a step closer her. “I could be a dragger if I wanted.”

“Uh huh.”

“Do you want me to drag you into bed right now just to prove it?” he asked, a thick edge to his voice.

She felt a little shiver of pleasure, but she shook her head. “No. We’d be even later than we are right now, and my hair and makeup would never recover.”

His face relaxed as he chuckled, and he pulled her into a light hug.

She hugged him back, her arms tightening as it hit her how much she loved him, how long she’d lived without him, how she never wanted to live without him again.

“You okay?” he murmured as he pulled away, scanning her face as if to search for what she was feeling.

She nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. Just love you a lot.”

Something strange happened on his face. She wasn’t sure how to describe it. It was like he was pushed in a direction and then pulled himself back. The whole thing happened in a flicker of a moment, so she wasn’t able to really follow the shift.

“What is it?” she asked.

He let out a soft huff and shook his head. “Nothing. Just I love you too.”

“Good. You better.”

“I do.”

She was about to ask him again, but he said, “You better get dressed or we’ll be late.”

He was right, so she didn’t argue. She went to get her dress from the bedroom and pulled it on.

She wasn’t living with Timothy and Jenny yet, but she might as well have been. She slept here almost every night, and she had as much of her stuff here as she did at her apartment. Occasionally, she’d wondered why Timothy hadn’t asked her to move in, but she didn’t want to rush it.

She wasn’t the one who’d lost a wife. She didn’t get to push him into her own timeline.

She was very happy. Happier than she’d ever thought she could be.

She didn’t have to have everything. At least, not right away.

***

They managed to make their reservation on time, and then they walked across the street to the theater. The play was well-done and enjoyable, but at intermission Timothy checked his phone and saw that his mother had texted him to let him know that Jenny had a little fever.

It wasn’t much, and she’d said they shouldn’t cut their evening short, but Madison saw Timothy’s face as he read the text and she immediately suggested that they just go home.

“We don’t have to,” Timothy said. “It sounds like it isn’t serious.”

Madison shook her head. “We’re not going to enjoy the play now anyway, thinking about Jenny. Let’s just go home.”

“I wanted to give you a night out. You still work too hard. You think I don’t see it, but I do.”

Her father was back in the office now, but he still couldn’t cover everything he’d done before. Madison’s job was still more than she could easily handle, although it was certainly better than it had been before.

“I’m doing fine, Timothy,” she said softly, taking a step closer since they were in a busy lobby and the conversation felt intimate. “I’ve had most of a night out. I don’t need the whole thing.”

“But I want you to have everything. I want you to always feel good.”

He meant it. He was utterly sincere. She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice.

Her eyes burned slightly with emotion as she reached out to hold on to the lapels of his suit coat. “I have more than I ever dreamed of, Timothy. You and Jenny do make me feel good. Let’s go home to her.”

He nodded, his face twisting briefly with a matching emotion. Then he took her hand, and they left the theater, heading to where they’d parked the car.

When they got home, Timothy’s mother was worried that they’d cut their evening short. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but I thought I better. She’s asleep now. I think she’ll be fine. She’s just usually not sick, so I—”

“Please don’t worry, Mom,” Timothy said, giving his mother a half hug. “I’m glad you let us know. We’re going to just look in on her.”

Jenny was still sleeping when they went into her room, and when Madison felt her forehead, she was relieved that it was only a little bit warm.

She couldn’t be too sick. It was probably just a little virus or something. Jenny didn’t even stir as Timothy straightened her covers, and then they left the room.

After thanking and saying good night to his mother, Timothy walked her to her car, and when he returned, he collapsed onto the sofa, looking suddenly exhausted.

Madison slipped off her shoes and leaned against him, sighing when he wrapped an arm around her.

“She’s fine, Timothy,” Madison said since she knew what he was thinking.

“I know.”

“She’ll probably be feeling fine tomorrow morning.”

“Hopefully.”

She looked up at him for a moment and then stretched up to kiss his jaw.

“Sorry about this evening,” he said.

“Don’t start that again. I like being home with you even more than going out with you most of the time.”

“Yeah?” His eyes were soft and warm.

“Yeah.”

“In that case…”

She frowned. “What?”

“Maybe you’d like to marry me.”

She jerked dramatically. “What?”

“I think you heard me.”

“What?”

“Are we doing the “what” thing again?”

“Yes, we’re doing the what thing! You’re asking me to marry you? Like this? Do you even mean it?”

His face sobered, and he reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, pulling out a little velvet pouch.

She stared at it, stunned speechless.

“It’s not a random thing,” he explained, pulling a diamond ring out of the pouch. “I’ve been planning it for weeks now. I was going to ask you tonight—when we were out. I wanted to… to do a big thing, to make you feel special. But then…” He shrugged. “I can wait and do it later if you want me to. I meant what I said when I said I wanted you to have everything.”

Tears were streaming down her cheeks now. There was no way she could hold them back. “You want me to marry you?”

He reached for her left hand. “I love you so much, Madison. More than I ever thought I was capable of after Emily died. I don’t know how it happened. I wasn’t looking for it. But you’ve become… you’ve become my heart. You and Jenny. I want us to be a family for real. I want to be able to love and live with you forever. I want everything for you. And I want to have everything too. I want to have everything with you.” He paused, his hand shaking just a little. “If you’ll have me.”

With a little sob, she threw herself into his arms. “Yes, I’ll have you. You don’t think I’m ever going to let you go now, do you?”

He wrapped his arms around her. “I hope not.”

They kissed and hugged and generally acted sappy until he finally managed to get the ring on her finger. Then they sat together for a long time on the couch, staring at it in a happy daze.

After a long time, following the rambling line of her thoughts, she began, “When you asked me to drive to the wedding with you…”

Timothy turned to look at her questioningly.

“Did you mean that to be a real date?”

His mouth twisted, and he didn’t answer.

She nudged him. “Tell me.”

“Y-yeah,” he said with a long exhale. “I wanted it to be. I was getting desperate since none of my overtures were being responded to.”

“I didn’t know they were overtures.”

“I know that now. But I didn’t then. I kept telling myself to just give up since you obviously didn’t want me as anything but a friend, but I couldn’t think of anyone but you. I couldn’t want anyone but you. So I told myself to try one more time at the wedding and then… then I’d have to give up.”

She was trying not to giggle but not doing a good job of it.

“Go ahead and laugh at me,” he said.

“I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at us. I was just as clueless as you were. But my question is this. If you wanted it to be a date, why did you ask for us to carpool?” She said the last word with a lingering trace of bitterness.

He wrapped both arms around her, his body shaking with amusement. “Because I’m an idiot. I got scared and trapped in the conversation, and I just… panicked.”

She hugged him back, laughing helplessly. “I was just looking for a good time at the wedding.”

“I know you were. With Kevin.” He still scowled every time he said the name.

She gave him a little kiss. “But instead of a good time, I had all my dreams come true. I found my prince and my happily-ever-after.”

“Me too,” he said, burying his face in her loose hair. “Me too.”

***

If you enjoyed this story, be sure to check out the first two books in the One Fairy Tale Wedding series, , about Charlie and Simon, and , about Hannah and Bruce. You can also find an excerpt from my next book, Living with Her One-Night Stand, on the following pages.

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