Page 74 of Gone for You

“Because — he could have proposed during a time we didn’tknowwe’d have to wait.”

“You mean, the whopping month was too long to wait?”

“Yes. But I only had to wait a month because things got bumped up because of the venue flooding and us having to change our date.”

“Which turned out to be a blessing because of his bye-week,” I remind her.

“Don’t I know it.”

For the next hour, we’re pampered like I’ve never been before. While Chloe works on my hair, another woman starts on my makeup. It feels good to relax like this with her. My week with Ethan started out with such promise. But the last few days have been hard. Emotion clogs my throat constantly knowing it’s about time for me to leave. I hate to admit how lonely it is when I’m back at my apartment hundreds of miles away from him, while at the same time I know the longer I stay here, the harder it will be.

I want the courage to tell him that I want to be with him and that we’ll figure it out, just like he’s been saying. Not that either of us have admitted what a relationship would look like. Continue as we have with long distance? Would he expect me to move to Liberty? Is that something I want? Would he be okay with never getting married? Does he want kids? Why have we never talked about those things? Probably because we were too scared to bring them up.

I hear Jackson let out a little squeak before a louder cry emerges. Bri looks like a natural as she repositions him, throws a blanket over him to cover up as she breastfeeds, all while continuing her conversation with another bridesmaid. For some reason, I can’t tear my eyes away from her. She doesn’t seem nervous, on edge, or so sleep deprived that she can’t even appear human, which I thought was the case for all new moms.

Before I can stop my mind from going there, I conjure up the memory of Ethan holding little Hillary and wonder what it would be like to have him holding our own. The thought makes me dizzy but it’s not unpleasant.

“Olivia?” Chloe’s voice snaps me back to the present.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” I answer.

“What do you think?”

“Huh?”

“Of your hair.”

I didn’t even realize she’d finished. I had completely zoned out, thinking about if I have it in me to be a mom. It’s not as if I didn’t have a great mom to learn from but since marriage was never on my radar, I guess my brain never went to motherhood either.

She hands me a mirror and turns my chair so I can see the back.Ethan will love it.The thought pops in my head before I can stop it, and so does the feeling that accompanies it. My smile reflects back at me in the small handheld mirror and I hand it to her. “I love it. It’s exactly what I hoped for.” She gives me a relieved smile. “Have we met before?” I ask her.

Chloe tilts her head to the side and shakes it back and forth. “I don’t think so.”

“Hmm. You look so familiar.”

“Maybe I just have a common face.” She smiles.

“Ha! Hardly. You’re gorgeous.”

“Oh my goodness. No. I’m not. But thank you for saying that.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Nails?”

“Absolutely.”

While Chloe gives me a manicure, I let my mind drift off once more. But this time, rather than fighting what I want to happen, I allow the what ifs to take up residence. Wondering what it would be like if I just finally listened to my heart’s desires and gave in.

“I’m a good listener,” Chloe says quietly. “And contrary to popular belief, what happens or is said in my chair, stays in my chair.”

I lift my eyes from the pale pink she’s painting on my fingers before sliding them into a UV LED lamp to cure the polish, and look at her.

She must be able to read my confusion because she continues, “I can see there’s something on your mind. Come on, tell mama Chloe all about it.”

She pretends to read my palm; I giggle and so does she.

---