Page 101 of All Your Firsts

This is the first time Vic has willingly talked about his family. My heart clenches as I think about what Jess told me.

“Do you miss her?”

“I miss the thought of who she could have been if not for her selfishness. Maybe it would have made me different.”

“I don’t want to imagine you being different. I think you’re perfect the way you are.”

“Even my fucked-up parts?”

“Everyone has them, Vic. You just have to find the people willing to see them as beautiful.”

“The only thing beautiful here is you.”

I smile at his subject change. I’ll take the hint and just be grateful he’s beginning to open up to me.

“You make me wish we could stay in this blissful moment forever.”

“We can.”

“We both know that’s not true,” I say with a heavy sigh as I think about all the things I promised myself to forget until it was time.

Gage.

The arranged marriage.

Leaving Vic.

The last one hurts the most.

“It could be.”

Twenty-Three

Rosie

As I stretch, I’m acutely aware of the soreness permeating every inch of me.

Last night was a whirlwind of excitement, beauty, and perfection. It went beyond anything I could have wished for.

Vic is just full of surprises. Perhaps his emotions run deeper than what meets the eye. Hopefully, he’s experiencing this connection just as strongly as I am.

I have to talk to him. I don’t want to build up my expectations only to be disappointed in the end.

But how could I not after the date on the lake? It was magical. I wish I could tell Mama all about it. She would be swooning.

This is the life I would have hoped for if I thought it was possible, and it’s all because of him.

I can imagine waking up every morning next to Vic, working with him, laughing with him, experiencing more firsts with him.

Falling more in love with him.

I tap the side of the bed, but it feels cold. Where is he?

An iced coffee sits on the nightstand beside a folded paper. I go for the coffee first, take a big sip, then grab the piece of paper. I can’t help but grin at the idea of receiving a handwritten note from him rather than a quick text message. It’s adorable.

Blood roars through my ears as my coffee falls from my hand and lands on the floor with a crash.

I take in the handwriting sprawled across the white paper. I’ve seen this writing before.

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