Page 33 of A More Than Mayhem Christmas

I finally walked away, furious at myself for not speaking up. For not standing up for myself. I knew that if I was with my girls, Lucy would have cursed them all to hell. Amanda would’ve slapped at least two of them, and Heidi—Heidi would’ve really gotten to them by calling out their fake designer bags. But… I was alone. And I never felt it more than I did then. I didn’t cry at that moment, but I do whenever I think back on it.

“I think it’s part of the reason I come back here so much,” I tell Jake after explaining that day to him. “I think I wanted to be closer to my friends, but then the insecurities kick in, and I think… what if they see me the same way? I know it’s not true, but I can’t help but wonder. And the more time that passes, the more I’ve started seeing myself and my life through the eyes of those women.”

Jake hasn’t spoken once since I started talking, but I know he’s listening to every word, every piece of my heartache.

“It’s embarrassing,” I finally admit. “I’m close to thirty, and I have nothing to show for it besides you. Those girls were right. I’ve barely worked a day in my life, and I’ve notearnedanything for myself.”

Jake finally speaks up. “You’ve been supporting me and my dreams.”

“That’s not how other people see it.”

“Who fucking cares what other people think?”

“I do, apparently.”

“Babe…” He forces me to look at him, right into his eyes. The questions still linger there, but most of all, I find strength in his stare, courage in the way he embraces me. Ten years on, and it feels the same as it did the first time he held me like this—when I stood outside my childhood home and watched it all disintegrate. “Firstly, your reaction to what they said isn’t dumbor pathetic. They are. They don’t know your strength or the will it takes to overcome what you have. Fuck them. They’re wrong. And they know it, too, because none of my teammates have told me about this, which means their partners didn’t tell them, and you know why? Because they’re fucking ashamed of themselves, as they should be. But that shame is theirs to carry, Kayla. It’s not yours. And if I have to spend the rest of my life proving that to you, then I will.”

I blink away the tears that fade with each of his words. “The rest of your life, huh?”

He tenses momentarily, already knowing where I’m going with this.

“Even if we’re not married?”

Jake sighs, long and almost silent. “You know I love you, right?”

I nod, positive. “You prove it every day.”

“And I know you love me,” he says.

“Our love is the only thing in this world I’m sure of.”

“So… you just don’t want to get married at all? Is that it?”

It’s the first time he’s asked so directly, and also the first time I’ve felt comfortable enough to answer in truth. Every heartbreaking ounce of it. I lean closer into him, rest my head on his shoulder. “Do you remember Cam and Lucy’s wedding?”

Jake sucks in a breath, releases it slowly. “It goes that far back?”

I nod. “When Lucy was getting ready to throw her bouquet, Amanda and I exchanged some fighting words. We were so ready to tackle each other for it. But then when it came time, I ran away…” I pause a breath, trying to form words that bring sense to my thoughts. “I feel like I’ve been doing that ever since…running away. I didn’t understand it then—why I was so afraid of the prospect of a wedding, and when you brought it up the first time, I opened my mouth to say yes, but then… then thisimage flashed in my mind of our wedding day.” A knot forms in my throat, but I manage to push through. “My mom and sister were there helping me get ready, and my dad… he was so excited to walk me down the aisle.” I release a sob, along with my tears, and I look up at the man who’s always there to wipe them away, just like he does now. “The thing is… they were the versions of themselves that I last knew, that I last touched and held, and I’ve aged since then, but they… they haven’t. They’re stuck in time, and they’re never going to grow with me, and in my head and in my heart, my sister’s still eight years old. She’d be nineteen now, off at college, and I know it’s not my fault—what happened to them, but…” My heartache is too much, too overwhelming, too painful. “Who’s going to walk me down the aisle, Jake?” I cry. “Or go dress shopping with me? Or…” I trail off, no longer able to speak through my sobs.

Jake’s painforme gets the better of him, too. He holds me to him, sniffing back his emotions as he strokes my hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, dropping a kiss on my forehead. “I should’ve picked up on your feelings.”

“No.” I shake my head, peer up at him through glassy eyes. “I should have told you. It just…”

“It’s hurts too much?”

I nod.

He kisses me again, his lips warm against my temple.

For a long moment, we stay that way, his mouth pressed to my skin, his love forever etched in my heart. Eventually, he pulls away, his eyes right on mine when he says, “Kayla…” It’s just my name. He’s said it a million times before. But this time, it holds a myriad of meanings. “I have everything I’ve ever wanted in my life, and I could lose almost all of it tomorrow and still be happy. As long as I have you, my friends, and my family, that’s all Ineed. But what Iwantis foryou to be mywife.”

“Jake…”

“When I’ve proposed to you before, I wasn’t asking for awedding.” He takes the ring I’m still grasping on to and slides it on the correct finger. No question on his end. No rejection on mine. “I’m asking you tomarry me.”

I find myself smiling as I look down at the ring on my finger, feeling whole for the first time in what seems like forever, and that smile only widens when I look up at my future husband. “Come on,” I say, grabbing his hand and getting to my feet.

Like the “proposal” that just occurred, Jake doesn’t ask questions.

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