Page 115 of If the Stars Align
After several seconds, during which my entire life flashesbefore my eyes, Dex folds the ten-year-old piece of notebook paper along its original creases and stands to put it in his pocket. Then he walks from the porch swing to the top of the steps. I follow his gaze up to the sky.
“What are you looking at?” I ask, my breathing shallow.
His eyes are now on mine. “I think the goddamn stars finally aligned,” he says, grinning.
My mind travels back to our tearful goodbye before I left for law school. We were right here on the Dexters’ front lawn when Dex tried to tell me he loved me—but I wouldn’t let him. I told him to wait until the stars align.
I felt like I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders that day—leaving my soulmate behind for a career I was certain wouldn’t be a good fit. But that career is in my rearview mirror now. And my soulmate is in front of me, offering me his heart.
All at once, the tension in my body melts, and I can breathe deeply again.
I giggle as I look back up at the clear blue, sunny sky. “You’re right. I see it too.”
“So…” he says, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Does that mean you’llfinallylet me say it?”
I take a step back and bite my lip. “Just one last thing—” I tell him.
He half-smiles and shakes his head. “Seriously, Sunny? How long are you going to make me wait?”
I chuckle, but my brow furrows. “I need to get this off my chest first. I want to tell you how sorry I am for breakingup with you in Paris.” My eyes fill with tears. “You were so vulnerable with me about your anxiety. You told me you needed my help, and I abandoned you because I was convinced I wasn’t good enough for you.” I sob. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself. But if you let me…I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”
Dex takes me in his arms again. “Sunny, you don’t have to apologize. You did the right thing. I put this huge burden on you to fix my problems—and that wasn’t your job. I don’t know that I ever would have gotten the help I needed if you didn’t break up with me in Paris. You did me the biggest favor of my life.”
“Really?” I ask, wiping my tears.
“Really,” he says.
This time I know he’s being sincere.
I smile so wide my cheeks hurt. “Okay…nowyou can say it.”
Dex takes my face in his hands. “I love you, Sunny. I always have, and I always will,” he says.
And then we kiss.
We kiss, and kiss, and kiss, right there on the front porch—and we only stop when we hear the clicking sound of camera shutters.
There are two photographers on the Dexters’ lawn. When we spot them, they yell, “Thanks, Dex!” before running to their parked cars and driving off with screeching tires.
Dex shakes his head. “Welcome to my world,” he says. “Although it might not be my world much longer.”
My brow crinkles. “What do you mean?”
He half-smiles. “After the Oscars, I turned down a coupleof roles. I’ve never done that before. I always felt like I needed to work, because if I didn’t, well—I’d fall apart. But I don’t feel that way anymore. I don’tneedacting the way I used to. So I was thinking of taking a break for a while to focus on a different project.”
“What kind of project?” I ask, my eyes widening. The excitement in his grin is contagious.
“I want to work with kids, Sunny. Kids who have anxiety. I was thinking of developing a program that infuses the arts into mental health treatment. So kids would be getting the care they need from a therapist, while also learning how to use the arts to manage their symptoms. And maybe once or twice a year, we’d put on an original show. Some of the kids could write the script, some could act. Some could paint the sets, or play music.” He shrugs, but his eyes are glimmering. “That’s all I’ve got so far.”
I blink back tears. “That sounds incredible, Dex. Where will you do it?”
“That’s the thing,” he says raising an eyebrow. “I can do it anywhere. Chicago, maybe?”
I wrap my arms around his neck and start kissing him. But before we get carried away, I pull back. “We probably should head inside before more photographers show up. By the way, I forgot to ask—what are you doing in Beachwood?”
Dex laughs and runs a hand over his hair. “I, um—I came here to stop your wedding.”
My jaw drops before I belly laugh. “What? Seriously?”
