Page 72 of Homesick

I’ve known I’ve wanted to marry Blake Fisher for most of my life, but I’m not going to rush it. I also feel the weight of Emma’s failing marriage on my shoulders, and it isn’t the right time.

I look up and Blake’s eyes are still shining brightly with the ring perched in his hand. “Jesus Christ, Wren, do you really think I would propose like this? I really thought you knew me better than that,” he says, beaming across from me.

My face mirrors him and I step back into his embrace, glad to be back in his warmth. “Okay, what do you want me to do with it then?” I ask with a slight attitude.

“Well,” Blake begins as he wraps his arms around me. “I’m not sure if we’re too old for promise rings, but you can wear it until it’s time for us to take the final jump.”

My ears perk up at his declaration.

“I think I like that idea,” I agree and melt into his presence. “I’m going to wear it around my neck though. You know I’d never hear the end of it otherwise.”

“You’re right. I wonder what Honey Grove will think once they find out about us.”

“I don’t really care,” I say as I squeeze him tighter. “I’m finally home and that’s all that matters.”

THE END

EPILOGUE

1 YEAR LATER

“I think this blue is going to look great,” I smile as I dip my paint roller into the pan of paint sitting on the floor.

“It’s a great color for a nursery, Campbell,” Blake smiles, leaning on the door frame of the room I’m currently standing in.

“Not funny, Fisher,” I grunt, turning back to the wall. “Blue is supposed to be calming. It’s the perfect color for my new office.”

I laugh it off, but Blake’s comment makes my heart jump. He’s been doing that since the minute we decided to give this thing another shot.

“Are you going to stand there and look pretty, or are you going to help?” I say, turning around and placing my free hand on my hip for good measure.

My heart stammers again at the sight of him. I have seen every inch of Blake Fisher, but somehow, I always feel like that same eight-year-old just begging for a bit of attention from her crush. I am undeniably in love with the man standing across the room, and I want to shout it from the rooftops.

“I know how much you like to look, Campbell. Why deprive you of such a treat?”

“Ass,” I mutter under my breath before continuing my handy work.

Blake and I moved into our apartment in Honey Grove a few weeks ago, and this was the first free day I had to finally paint my office. Based on the pale pink currently painting the walls, I assumed it was a child’s bedroom. I liked pink, but I liked the idea of a fresh start for my new office.

My office, I repeat in my head. Sometimes I have to pinch myself when I think about how far my small business has come in such a short amount of time.

I am currently handling content strategies for five different small businesses in town and the surrounding area. Now I am at the point where I need to bring on a part-time employee to help with the influx of work.

Everything is going great. I love my job, I have my friends and family close, and I have Blake. I am happy, and all it took was finding my home again. My true home.

“Did you talk to Emma today?” Blake asks from behind me.

“Yeah,” I answer while continuing to roll on more paint. “She moved the last of her stuff into her mom’s place today.”

“How is she taking the divorce?”

I contemplate his question for a moment while I continue to coat the wall in its first coat of light blue. Emma revealed the extent of her relationship issues with Colt to me last summer, and since then, it seemed to get worse.

Initially, they tried couples counseling, but after a while, it was clear that they’d both been checked out of the relationship for some time. Emma even admitted to me that if it wasn’t for Milo, she would’ve pulled the plug two years ago.

“She’s fine, I think,” I say before setting the paint roller down. “She seems really good, actually. Maybe too good, if that makes sense.”

It’s true. Emma and Colt filed for divorce three months ago, and everything was finalized a few days ago. I expected her to have some sort of reaction, but she didn’t seem fazed at all. A ten-year-long relationship, and she didn’t even shed a tear.

---